


I'll Make This Place Your Home

by WillPJackson



Series: Not Like a Brother [7]
Category: 13 Reasons Why (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Background Relationships, Blow Jobs, Clustin, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Lockdown Drills, M/M, Not Season 3 Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post Season 2, References to Canon Sexual Assault, References to Tyler's sexual assault, References to gun violence, Road Head, Shower Sex, fuzzy legal proceedings, mentions of past child sexual abuse, mentions of sex work with implied non-consent, mild violence, pre-season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:35:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 43,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24137461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WillPJackson/pseuds/WillPJackson
Summary: Justin's adoption hearing is now days away. Will things go according to plan in spite of the shadows from his past?
Relationships: Justin Foley/Clay Jensen
Series: Not Like a Brother [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1175957
Comments: 86
Kudos: 207





	1. Hearing

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my God, season 4. I'm not ready. Nope. Not ready at all. The S4 announcement caught me by surprise, so here I am booking the weekend of June 5 ready to be a complete and emotional mess!
> 
> I'm posting this first chapter much earlier than I wanted, even though there's very little chance this section will be done before the S4 drop date, let alone the entire series, but who knows? I really didn't want to fall too behind in the timeline with respect to the actual series, but alas, life moves faster than fiction, sometimes.
> 
> There will be four more parts to this series, including this one, before the series is completed, and I have a follow-up summer work/series planned before the season 3 timeline starts in a new series. I have a lot of work to do to mash up the continuities I've established, so I don't even want to begin to speculate on what will happen in S4.
> 
> If you're new to the series, perhaps the most important deviations to know, aside from the obvious, are that Tyler was sent a treatment facility after his attempt on the school and Monty is in juvenile detention after confessing to his assault on Tyler. The most pertinent chapters are the later ones of My Kind of Love and early chapters of High Hopes. Clay also caught Justin using and they detoxed together once more after some additional angst and managed to keep it from the parents.
> 
> If you've been reading this far, know that I'm extremely grateful. I hope you'll continue to stick with me as we ramp up for some major plot and drama ahead! :)

“Am I gonna have to testify again?”

Justin had never been in the master bedroom before. Even when it had just been him in the house the entire day, back when he was still in hiding (too afraid of being caught by a surprise visit). He leaned against the pristinely-made bed, while Mrs. Jensen sat before the beauty mirror affixed to the desk that preceded the master bath where Mr. Jensen was showering. She was working on removing her makeup as she talked him through the nitty-gritty of his upcoming hearing.

“If you’re thinking of your prior experiences in court, then, no,” Lainie replied. “Like I mentioned, these proceedings are much less formal than a trial. There won’t be a jury—just a judge, and members of all relevant parties.”

She’d mentioned that there was still no news on his mother’s whereabouts. “What about my dad?” Justin asked.

“That’s something that Dennis and I will speak to if the judge asks.” She paused a moment from rubbing her face with a cloth and looked at Justin through the mirror. “I’d been meaning to talk to you about that—but you and Clay have been practically inseparable these past few weeks.”

Justin suppressed a laugh. Clay had always come to his rescue whenever the topic came up, but with the hearing just a few days away, they couldn’t procrastinate on things any longer.

“Sorry,” Justin uttered, rubbing his thumbs together as he gazed towards the floor. He let out a sigh. “Do we really have to go through all this? Can’t I just—write a letter or something to the judge, saying I want you and Matt to adopt me?”

Lainie turned around and smiled at Justin, setting her make-up cloth on the desk before getting up and leaning against the bed beside him.

“Unfortunately,” she said, “things won’t be _that_ easy.”

She explained that since Justin’s mother and alleged father (man on the birth certificate) were never married and there was no formal custody agreement drawn up, they had to demonstrate to the judge that a good-faith effort to contact the father had been made, and that no support had been provided over the years.

“You don’t need to know for sure if he ever provided you any support. Without your mother there, the point is basically moot, anyway.”

Justin let out a breath. “You don’t think he’ll show up to the hearing, do you?”

Lainie shook her head. “We can prove that we did send certified correspondence to his last-known address, but we cannot have the court compel him to appear since we haven’t been able to contact him otherwise.”

“Did Dennis really go all the way over there?”

“He did. Twice. No one was home.” Lainie crossed her arms. “No response to voicemails, or any phone calls—all of which we can provide the judge.”

Justin sighed again, and let his shoulders drop. He glanced up at Mrs. Jensen and forced a smile. “I guess it’s safe to assume he doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

Lainie grasped his arm. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

Forcing a laugh, Justin said, “It’s okay, really. It makes everything easier, anyway, doesn’t it?”

Clay’s mom nodded. She went on to explain how the judge might ask questions of all of them—Clay, herself, and Matt—and likely ask Justin about his experiences over the past several months. Most likely, the questions would focus on his time with the Jensens so far—and his recovery. Justin’s social worker would also be there as a party of the state, even though she missed the last two visits. Lainie expected a visit within days—for real this time—since the hearing was imminent. All in all, without a party there to oppose Justin’s adoption, their time in court that morning might go by rather quickly.

“If you’d like my honest opinion,” Lainie went on, “this hearing is largely a formality.” She smiled at him. “We could be out of court well before lunchtime.”

Justin grinned. “If you’re optimistic, I see no reason to worry, then.”

She rubbed his bicep. “Don’t stress, Justin. After this week, things will be business as usual from here on.”

Inhaling deeply, Justin let out, “I can’t wait.”

“Indeed. Barring any surprises, I’m sure the judge will find your case pretty cut-and-dried.”

Justin looked at her. “Surprises?”

Lainie met his gaze. “Well—your mother or alleged father showing up at the hearing, I mean. Like we just talked about.”

Justin quickly shook his head. “Right, right, duh.”

Her gaze persisted on him. “Is there anything else?”

Despite the twinge in his stomach, Justin met her eyes once more and shook his head again. “No, nothing else that I can think of.”

Lainie nodded, then smiled. “All right, then. Have a good night, Justin.”

“Good night,” he echoed, making for the door.

Justin stepped down the hall towards Clay’s room. After opening the door and shutting it behind him, Justin turned to see Clay already up from the desk and approaching to greet him, their hands gliding across into the other’s arms as they reached to embrace each other.

It had only been maybe twenty minutes, and it might’ve been a gesture that made more sense after hours or days apart, but greeting each other like one of them had just come back from wartime had become kind of a thing for them over the past few days. They just couldn’t help getting all touchy-feely with each other whenever they were alone together.

“How’d it go?” Clay asked over Justin’s shoulder.

Justin laughed, and they parted. As Clay appeared to be suppressing a smile, Justin replied, “It was completely fine. Nothing, really, that I wasn’t expecting.”

“Good,” Clay said, nodding, “good. Nothing, uh, come up that she—she didn’t know about?”

Justin sighed, that prickling in his stomach returning. He and Clay had talked about not coming clean about their boyfriend status to Matt or Lainie until after the hearing, which Justin wasn’t entirely comfortable with—but agreed to go along with, nonetheless. No take-backs, after that.

“No,” Justin confirmed, “that—didn’t come up.”

His boyfriend squeezed his shoulders. “I know you don’t really like it, but I just feel like—the less potential complications we have going into your hearing, the better.”

_Complications._ That was probably another good name for that feeling gnawing at Justin’s gut.

“Besides,” Clay went on, “Tyler’s finally coming home this week. I wanna make sure I get the chance to see him when he does.”

They made for the desk, and Clay sat back down as Justin took a seat on the bed. “Do you know when he’s back?” Justin asked.

“It should be tomorrow or Tuesday, I think,” Clay replied. “That’s what his mom said, at least.”

“You want me to come with you?”

The boy thought for a moment, thinning his lips. “No—not yet, at least. Tony and I were planning on going, but, I’m gonna try to feel him out, first. See how he’s doing. I don’t wanna overwhelm him right now.”

Justin nodded. “You think Tyler’s okay?”

Clay let out a sigh. “I hope so. I really hope so.”

In a rare reversal, Justin had finished all of his homework well before his boyfriend. As Clay turned his attention back towards his work, Justin resisted the urge to ask him how much longer he might be. The boy had a major paper due and their—afternoon delights (and morning and evening delights, really) over the weekend had put him really behind.

Justin lay across the bed atop the covers and grabbed his phone to scroll for a bit. After a minute or two, though, Clay said, “You probably shouldn’t wait up for me. I’m gonna be a while.”

When Justin whined, unable to help himself, the boy chuckled. “I’m sorry,” Justin said.

Clay gave him a look and smirked. “Hey, it takes two to tango, you know.”

“I know, I know, but—I still feel bad.”

“Well, don’t,” Clay insisted, “because I brought this entirely on myself.”

“If I knew this would cut into our cuddle time, I might’ve put more effort into not—distracting you.”

“Oh, I know,” the boy cooed, “I’m sorry.”

When Justin settled beneath the covers, Clay stepped over to the bed and leaned over to give Justin a kiss. After a slow, gentle, and sweet caress of their lips, the boy pulled back and said, “I’ll make it up to you—promise.”

Grinning, Justin said, “Don’t worry about me, babe. Do what you need to do, okay?”

Clay smiled back as he rolled his eyes and sat back at the desk. “There’s that _b_ word again.”

It had been slipping out more and more lately, Justin couldn’t help it. Clay was still on the fence about the term, but Justin couldn’t think of anything else that felt right—yet. The boy didn’t like _boo_ , either, and had jokingly countered with _bitch,_ which Justin strongly disliked.

“Sorry,” Justin offered.

“Stop apologizing and go to sleep, Foley.”

_Umph_. With a grin, Justin closed his eyes and settled into his pillow. It really did it for him—when Clay got all bossy and demanding.

And, come morning, he was definitely going to show the boy just how much it really did it for him.

Justin felt himself dozing off until he heard the click of the lamp, then felt the shuffling of the covers as Clay settled into bed. Justin let out a gentle groan.

“Sorry, sorry,” his boyfriend whispered, “go back to sleep.”

“No,” Justin joked, reaching over to embrace Clay without opening his eyes. “Snuggle,” he insisted, and the boy shrieked with a brief laugh.

“Snuggle monster.”

Justin let out a hum of approval and tried to listen in on Clay’s heartbeat as they fell asleep. That, and his breathing, had long ago become Justin’s heralds of peace.


	2. Feelings, Not Fixes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin tries to manage his anxieties.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must admit I do feel like I'm on sort of a time crunch with the new season approaching. The new trailer and teases have gotten me so emotional and anxious! Anyway, since a LOT will be happening in this part of the series, I hope to put out as much as I can before the new season debuts, although I am not optimistic it will be even close to done before June 5. Who knows what state I'll be in after that, lol...

“We’re early again.”

Justin shut the car door as Clay did the same before they started walking towards the school.

“Yeah, don’t worry,” Clay responded, shooting him a quick smile, “no interventions this morning. I just wanted to meet about Tyler.”

Justin nodded as they approached the main entrance. While passing through the arts hall, they ran into Cyrus, his sister, and crew along the way and Clay began conversing with them as they entered the library.

Tony, Jess, Alex, and Scott were already seated at a long table. Justin greeted them and Clay did the same after taking a seat beside Tony near the head of the table. Justin sat across from Alex and Scott as the others gathered around.

“Is Zach coming?” Clay asked, looking towards Alex.

Shrugging, Alex replied, “I texted him, but he hasn’t responded.”

As a sour look came over Clay’s face, Jess offered, “I’m sure he’ll get on board soon enough.”

“Yeah,” Alex went on, “he’s got a long going on right now.”

Clay let out a quiet sigh. “Right.”

“So what is the official word?” Cyrus asked.

“Tyler’s coming home tomorrow,” Clay said. “That’s what his mom tells me. Tony and I are gonna go over there to see how he’s doing.” He glanced around the table. “She did ask not to overwhelm him all at once, so if you did want to send him anything, use the e-mail I sent out on the group chat.”

“I overheard Childs talking about Tyler, I think,” one of Cyrus’ friends added. “They’re gonna bring him up in home room today.”

“What, are they gonna ban talking about him, too?” Alex said.

Cyrus’ buddy shook his head. “They’re gonna start talking about lockdown and—evacuation drills, from what I heard.”

Jess, Tony, and a few others audibly sighed as Clay frowned—visibly fuming.

“Impeccable timing,” Tony spat.

“Class act,” Jess added.

“Okay,” Clay interjected, “if that does happen, let’s not mention that to Tyler, all right?”

“They were gonna start doing it anyway,” Alex said. “Why it took this long, though, is anyone’s guess.”

“They probably didn’t want to make the panic any worse,” Scott offered.

Tony looked towards Jess. “Did you ever find out from Courtney if they made a decision about Monty, yet?”

“Not yet,” Jess answered.

Justin looked towards her and Alex. “They lowered the charges against Monty, didn’t they?” He recalled seeing something in the group chat about it.

“Yeah,” Alex said, “as part of his plea bargain, from what I’ve been able to snoop out. I think it’s mainly so that he didn’t have to go to adult jail.”

“Does your dad tell you all this stuff?” Scott asked.

Alex suppressed a smile. “I have my ways.”

Jess grinned. “He pulls the ‘daddy-I’m-lonely’ card so he has an excuse to hang around the police station.”

“If there’s anything this limp and cane are gonna do for me, I’m gonna milk them for all they’re worth.” Alex shrugged, then went on, “I think, though, he knows it’s gonna get out, regardless.”

“But Monty’s gonna be locked up for—how long?” Scott pressed.

“At least the next two months,” Clay interjected. When Scott looked at him, the boy went on, “It’s public knowledge at this point.”

“The police did seal everything, didn’t they?” Justin asked.

“Yes,” Clay and Alex both answered. After they glanced at each other, Clay continued, “We were mostly all there in the woods that day with Tyler. From what I’ve heard, none of the speculation and rumors about what happened with Monty and Tyler have hit close to the mark. Has anyone else found out anything differently?”

After glancing around the table again, and with no response, Clay went on, “I don’t think it needs to be said—but it should stay that way. No one should utter a word about what Monty really did to Tyler. Please.”

“That’ll be his story to tell,” Jess added, “if—whenever—he’s ready.”

She happened to meet Justin’s gaze, and he couldn’t help but flinching slightly as he steered his gaze towards the table. That prickly feeling in his stomach returned.

The first bell rang, and everyone started to get up as Clay said they’d meet again after confirming on the group text.

Jess went up to Justin and held his arm. “Hey,” she said, “I, I wasn’t looking at you when I said that, or meant to, I mean.”

Justin shook his head. “I know, I know.”

Jess smiled at him before heading off with Alex. As the others exited the library, Clay held back with Justin as they started to walk, too.

“You okay?” the boy asked him.

Nodding, Justin said, “Yeah, I’m okay. Just a wobble—is all.”

“How are you feeling, today?”

What started as a daily question was now an occasional inquiry—a focused prompt on a certain topic, regardless of the time of day. An invitation for truth, not an interrogation. A chance for reflection and openness—not a drug test.

Justin exhaled deeply. “It was a brief trigger, I’ll be honest. But I’m okay. I’m antsy because of the hearing, of course, but I think today is a better day with my energy levels, overall.” He smiled at Clay.

Clay smiled back at him briefly. “I guess I should’ve asked if you actually wanted to come to this meeting. I can’t help being a little selfish with our time together.”

Justin laughed. When they talked about that question, and what the point of that question was, Clay would more often than not freely offer his own response in return. Even though it was technically only Justin going to the recovery meetings, they were both learning a lot.

“Don’t be sorry. I wanna help.”

He kissed Clay on the cheek as they neared the junction in the hall, then said goodbye to each other before splitting off.

~ ~ ~

Lainie  
 _Karen confirmed her visit today_  
 _Matt and I will be home in time to meet her_

The texts came through right as the lunch period ended. As Justin read the message, he couldn’t help staring at the screen until his eyes lost focus and began staring through it. His mind was whirring through all the implications, and his stomach again prickled from anxiety. After realizing he still hadn’t dumped his tray yet, he finally dropped it on the conveyer and slid his phone back into his pocket before making his way through the crowd out of the cafeteria.

Fuck, he was pulling a Clay again. And, ironically enough, only Clay could be the one to reassure him right then.

Justin went straight for Clay’s locker, and luckily found the boy there spinning in his locker combination.

“Hey,” Justin greeted.

“Hey,” his boyfriend echoed, popping his locker open.

“Did you see your mom’s texts?”

“Yeah, I did.” Clay gave him a more thorough look as he pulled a binder from the locker. “You okay?”

Justin bit his lip as he clutched his backpack straps. “I dunno why—I think I’m kinda freaking out.”

“Why? Didn’t my mom say she’d be coming?”

Shrugging, Justin replied, “Yeah, she did, but—I didn’t think it’d be _today.”_

Clay slid a textbook into his locker. “It’ll be annoying, but, it’s not something you need to stress over. My parents are gonna be way more stressed than you—believe me.”

“How do you know?”

“Well, you saw how they were right after the dance, right? The social worker was supposed to come that day, too, but I guess with everything going on, she just decided not to come.”

Justin gaped at him. “Seriously? You never said.”

The boy met his gaze. “I thought you knew.”

“How? Your folks never told me, either. Unless I missed it at dinner or breakfast—but I doubt it.” Justin shook his head.

“My mom e-mailed us. She’s been forwarding the e-mails from the case worker.” Clay looked back towards his locker to pull out another book and chuckled. “You don’t check your e-mail, do you?”

“No,” Justin replied meekly, pulling out his phone. He’d never paid attention to that red circle above that envelop icon, or the number inside of it…

Clay continued to suppress a smile as he dropped the book in his book bag. “In any case, the social worker has been flaky as hell, so, try not to get too worked up if she doesn’t show up today, either.”

The boy shut his locker. “Besides—you should’ve met her one-on-one a long time ago. Don’t be surprised if you end up getting another one after the hearing. A competent one.”

Shrugging, Justin said, “Well, assuming she does show up today, shouldn’t we, like, make sure our story’s straight?”

“What do you mean?”

“What we’re gonna tell her when she asks stuff.”

Clay smiled. “I never thought I’d say this to you, but—you’re overthinking this.” He grasped Justin’s shoulder. “It’s pretty much the same story we’re presenting to my parents. We’re clear on that, aren’t we?”

Justin shrugged again. “Yeah, we are, but—”

His boyfriend pecked him on the cheek. “It’s gonna be fine, Justin. Don’t stress. We’ll talk more on the way home, okay?”

Justin exhaled slowly. “Okay.”

After Clay patted his arm goodbye, Justin set off towards his own locker and tried to sift through his own thoughts. He wasn’t sure if it was the social worker’s visit that he was really worried about, anyway. Opening up about himself—about his own situation, and how he was living day to day—was a topic he spent—literally, _years_ —avoiding. He never talked about himself, or his mom, or his home life—and Bryce, Zach, Jess, and the others Justin kept around never brought those things up, either. ‘Cause they knew.

It was, quite frankly, a lifelong habit, and if the topic did ever come up—it would always be a fabrication. A story. A nicety. A pleasantry just to make small talk.

Simply put, a lie. A veneer to gloss over the splintery foundation of his life.

Hannah was the first one to see through that façade early on—and not run away. When Justin made it to his locker and began spinning in his combo, he felt another wave of regret hit him. He missed her, even the version of her that only existed while he was using. As annoying as she was, she still helped him figure shit out.

He took a deep breath, exhaled, then swallowed as he opened his locker. Fuck, he could go for a hit right now—and as soon as the craving hit him he took another deep breath, exhaled again, and recited his recovery mantra over and over in his head: _feelings, not fixes. feelings, not fixes. feelings, not fixes._

To have to present yet another story to the social worker felt too much like falling into old habits for Justin’s comfort. Clay might’ve been on board and it might’ve been the logical, most practical option, but Justin still hated having to lie, having to omit the truth. Not to just the social worker, really, but from Matt and Lainie, too. And from Clay, as well, since the boy didn’t really know how he felt about this. At least, Justin had never explicitly told him.

The boy might have known, though. Or, at least guessed. Ever since that first conversation with Lainie about his alleged father, Justin figured Clay had picked up on his discomfort and that was why he’d always tried to intercede when Lainie tried to bring up the hearing.

Really, she’d been trying to get Justin to open up about his past. His upbringing. The cracks in his foundation. He knew exactly why—he had to be able to talk about those kinds of things at the hearing if the judge asked—and he was so grateful that Lainie hadn’t tried to push any harder than she’d had. It might not have been necessary, anyway, especially without a party to counter his adoption. Still, he trusted her, and he wanted to open up to her—it was just still so fucking hard.

Like coming clean to Clay that night of the Spring Fling, after what Tyler had almost done. Justin often looked back on that night because he was still amazed that he’d been able to do it—tell Clay exactly how he felt for him. That he loved him. That being without him would destroy him.

And all it took was a near-death experience to do so.

When the warning bell rang, Justin came to and shook his head before dumping his physics stuff into his bag, shutting his locker, and making for the science building. _Feelings, not fixes_ was a lot of fucking work. But, he wasn’t even considering the alternative because—Clay was right. Justin _was_ overthinking all this, and everything was going to be fine.

He’ll figure out the words again on how to tell Clay all of this, but for now, Justin just needed to suck it up and get through the day. He _was_ moving forward and things _were_ finally starting to happen. He needed to stop looking for reasons or excuses for things to go wrong.

He reached Mrs. Schaffer’s class and sat down at a desk. He was one of the last people to enter, and barely made it before the tardy bell rang. He took another deep breath in and exhaled slowly. _Feelings, not fixes._

As his craving persisted, Justin realized—old habits really do die hard.


	3. The Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin's social worker visits the Jensens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like this chapter will officially break 200k words for the series. :o If you've read this far, what are you still doing here? lol (THANK YOU :'D)

It wasn’t until the last period of the day that Justin managed to wrestle his craving into submission. Like hunger if you ignore it for long enough. He retrieved his things and met Clay at his locker before they started walking to the car.

“Are you still feeling nervous about the visit?”

Justin shrugged as they stepped out in front of the school. “Not so much anymore, I think.”

When they got into the Prius and shut their doors, Clay dropped his backpack in the backseat and let his gaze linger over Justin. The boy was trying to read him. Justin wondered if the day would ever come when he’d start to find it annoying—but that day was definitely not today.

“Your craving is hitting pretty hard today, isn’t it?”

Justin blew out a breath. “Yeah, it is.”

“Is it the visit?”

“I think so,” Justin replied with a nod. “It has to be. It hit me pretty bad after lunch.”

“Have the exercises been helping? What they’ve been saying to try at your meetings?”

Justin nodded again and met Clay’s eyes for a moment. “Yeah, they have.” He forced a grin. “They take work, but they help.”

Clay took his hand and squeezed. Justin squeezed back. “What’s got you so worried about the visit?”

Justin shrugged again and looked out the window. “I dunno, for sure. I, I guess—same reasons as your folks would be worried. Making a good impression.”

“Well, I said that mainly because stressing out is just in their natures—where do you think I get it from?—so they’re gonna make sure everything’s ready. So _you_ don’t have to worry.”

His boyfriend squeezed his hand once more. “Is there something else?”

Looking back towards Clay for a moment, Justin shifted his eyes towards his book bag between his legs. “Clay,” he began, inhaling deeply, then exhaling before meeting his eyes again, “I’ve pretty much spent my whole life faking it. You know, with—with my mom. And, and my whole— _situation_.” He forced a brief laugh. “You know, my situation at home.”

“Yeah.”

“I mean, Jess saw it. Bryce did, too. Zach knew, and—and Hannah saw a little of it, too. Most everyone else, though, never got it. I mean, how could they? It was something I tried really hard to keep from everyone around me.”

Justin swallowed and looked out towards his window again. “So, I guess… I dunno.” He forced out another breath. “I—I don’t wanna hide you, Clay.” He hung his head. “You’ve made me the happiest I’ve ever felt in my life and it just kinda feels wrong to lie about it. I mean, I get why—I totally do. It’s just—I wanna be real. No pretending, or faking. Because being with you is _worlds_ away from what I’ve grown up with—and I don’t wanna treat that as if they’re the same.”

When he finally looked back up at Clay, he found his boyfriend’s eyes welling and Clay quickly forced a smile. Justin let out a laugh and looked towards the windshield as he felt his throat sting and a tear fall down his own cheek.

“Sorry,” Justin let out, “I’m not saying we need to change anything right now. It’s just what I’m feeling, I think. ‘Feelings, not fixes,’ right?”

“No, yeah,” Clay began, and he let go of his hand to reach over and embrace him. Justin kept the grin on his face to force his cheeks up—‘cause it was the only way he was gonna keep from crying at that moment as he heard the boy sniffle—and tried to embrace him back as he held onto his boyfriend’s arm.

“I’m sorry,” he went on, “I had no idea this meant so much to you.”

“It’s okay, really,” Justin insisted. “It’s okay. You don’t need to be sorry.”

Clay let go of him. “I know—but I am. We’ll tell them today. No more waiting.”

Justin shook his head. “No, Clay, that’s—that’s not what I want.” He laughed. “I don’t wanna rock the boat right now. It’s just what I feel, and feelings aren’t always rational, right?”

“But they still matter.”

“I know.” Justin exhaled. “Look, I can go a few more days—no problem. It’s already been like a month, right?”

Clay smiled at him. “We’ll tell them right after the hearing. Hell—I’ll tell them on my own, if you want me to.”

Grinning, Justin countered, “No, I don’t want that. I wanna be there with you.” He chuckled. “Besides, I wanna find out which one of them bet on you liking boys for real.”

The boy burst out with a laugh and rolled his eyes as he started the car. “Oh my god. If they were to make a bet like that, it’d definitely be my dad. He’s a betting man, all right.”

~ ~ ~

After they started to drive, they talked about some of the things they’d tell the social worker—and how not everything would have to necessarily be a lie.

“I could say how the food’s better,” Justin quipped.

Clay agreed, and offered, “You could say how I’m gracious enough to let you have all the hot showers.”

“Hey, I don’t take all the hot water!”

“You still mostly shower first, though.”

When his boyfriend eyed him, Justin grinned. “Well, I always wake up first.” He reached across to caress Clay’s thigh. “We could always start showering together, you know,” Justin cooed.

The boy grinned, but admonished, “Hey now, behave. We’re almost home.” Justin laughed.

“They _probably_ won’t let us do that, though,” Clay admitted.

The other Priuses were already at the house when they got home. As promised, Lainie and Matt were futzing about in the den and kitchen as Clay and Justin stepped through the front door.

“Hello!” Lainie greeted. “Wonderful!” She paused on her way to the kitchen with a stack of papers and books in her arms to say to Clay, “Sweetheart, why don’t you work on tidying up your room as we talked about? Justin, go ahead and get settled—the social worker should be here any minute.”

As she continued on to the kitchen, Justin couldn’t help thinking, _Okay, this is happening,_ as he went upstairs with Clay.

“The room’s not that bad, is it?” Justin asked.

“She’s talking about the closet. She wants you to have your own space in there.” When they got up to the room, Clay went on, “My dad’s assignment was to make up the bed in the study—even though you _insist_ on sleeping on my couch.” He grinned.

Justin laughed. “I told him not to, that one time he offered.”

“Yeah, he told me that too, which is why I didn’t tell you.”

After they set their backpacks down, Justin went to the bathroom to wash his face and maybe quell the lingering nerves nibbling on his gut. His heart-to-heart with Clay really did help, but there seemed to be no way to totally contain the magnitude of what was coming.

Justin dried off his face and gazed at himself in the mirror. Honestly, he looked good—the best he’d looked in weeks.

“No big deal,” he uttered to his reflection. “You got this.”

The doorbell rang, and Justin set his towel down before taking a deep breath. That was definitely his cue. He stepped out of the bathroom and started down the staircase as he heard the front door open. Matt greeted the social worker.

“Karen?”

“Matt! A pleasure.”

Lainie made it to the door right as Justin was crossing down the last few steps. She greeted Karen also with a handshake before making way for Justin.

Karen looked a lot younger than he was expecting—younger than Hembree from juvie had been. Her brunette curls bounced as she stepped inside and shook Justin’s hand.

“Justin! I’m so glad to finally meet you.” She gave a bubbly smile. “I’m sorry this wasn’t sooner.”

Lainie prompted them to the dining room. “Can I get you anything? Water, or tea?”

Karen shook her head. “I’m all right, but thank you, though.”

Smiling, Lainie said, “We’ll be upstairs,” before stepping away.

Karen sat down at the head of the table as Justin took a seat beside her, and she set her purse down on the floor before pulling out a pad holder from it. She left it closed on the table before her, though, and gave Justin another warm smile.

“So,” she began, “I don’t have a lot of formal questions for you. Just—tell me all about you. How are you adjusting here? What’s your day like, now?”

Justin offered a smile in return and let out a breath. “Things are good here. I’m good—really good.”

He told her about his typical day, about the relative normality of his life now that verged upon a mundane teenage life. Something that he’d been sorely lacking for a long time.

“I’m aware of the drama that happened after the school dance,” Karen remarked. “How are things at school?”

Shrugging, Justin replied, “Better. Honestly, it feels like forever ago.”

“How about your school work? How are you doing with catching up?”

Justin smiled. “I’m getting there.” He laughed. “Clay, uh, he helps me. He’s been a real big help with my work and, and making sure I’m on track.”

Karen nodded appreciatively. “I take it things between you and Clay are good? How do you think he’s doing with a new sibling in the house?”

It took a lot for Justin not to burst out laughing and could barely suppress a smile. “I’ll admit, we didn’t really get off to a great start. But—we’ve been through a lot, these past few weeks, and, and—we’re closer for it.”

The social worker grinned. “How are you getting along? Do you share any interests?”

Justin let a brief laugh slip. “Good, we’re—we get along, and, and yeah, we have a few things in common. We, uh, we—watch movies. He has a lot of books, and comics. I really like this one he has, Alien Robot Killers.”

They laughed. “How about the other Jensens, Matt and Lainie?” Karen asked. “How have they helped you settle in?”

“They’ve been really great, too,” Justin answered with a nod. “They’re, like, the first ones I’ve really had a family meal with.” He forced a laugh. “We have breakfast and dinner, most days and nights. They tell me I can eat as much as I want—you know, not having to go hungry, and all that.” He forced another laugh and shrugged. “They’ve taken me shopping, gotten me new clothes, and stuff. I—I don’t need all that much, though.”

Karen gave Justin a thoughtful look. “What are you looking most forward to, in the next few weeks?”

Justin took a moment before answering. “Gee, I, I haven’t really thought about that. I guess—being settled, for real, you know? Having everything official. Or, or at least the start of it. I won’t lie—this hearing has kinda been looming over everything.”

Karen nodded appreciatively. “I can totally see why you’d feel that way, especially with your previous times in a courtroom, but I assure you, this will be completely different. Much more laid back, I promise you. I have been to so many of these—and I think yours will be a breeze.”

Justin tried not to grin. “You’ve done a lot of these?”

She grinned back at him. “I’m older than I look, but yes, I have. I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch. I’ve just had personal issues I’ve had to deal with recently, and I had asked for your case to be reassigned, but clearly that did not happen!” She shrugged.

“I wasn’t worried, though. I’ve worked with Dennis on several other cases so I knew you’d be in good hands. I just wish all of my cases were as easy as yours.”

Justin nodded. “I aim to please,” he remarked, and Karen laughed.

“I know you do,” she commented as she opened her pad holder, “you seem like such a sweet boy. Would you mind getting Mr. and Mrs. Jensen?”

He felt his cheeks warm slightly but stood up and said, “Okay,” before she could see him blush. He went upstairs to find Matt just outside of Clay’s room.

“He’s still keeping all of his stuff under the bed?”

“Dad, I haven’t forced him to do anything!”

“Have you offered?”

“Yes!”

Matt turned around as Justin approached. Justin grinned as Matt said, “I am invoking parental authority on your behalf.”

“Thanks, Matt,” Justin replied, while Clay made a face at him through the doorway.

“I take it Karen’s ready for us?” Matt went on.

“Yeah, she was asking for you and Lainie.”

Matt thanked him before heading towards the master bedroom and Justin stepped into Clay’s room. The boy was still giving him a look.

“I have tried so many times to get you to spread out up here,” he chafed.

Justin giggled. “I know, but the closet’s so full already.” He glanced around at all the clothes spread out across the couch, table, side chair, and bed. “Clearly.”

“Well,” Clay said, dropping another pair of jeans on the couch, “a bunch of this stuff I am finally getting rid of, unless you want any of it.”

Justin began eyeing some of the clothes when something caught his eye at the far end of the couch.

“Who is this?” Justin exclaimed, trotting towards the stuffed animal that was face down atop a pile of shirts.

“Oh my god,” Clay grumbled. “I knew—in the sea of _shit,_ you would zero right in on that thing…”

Clay came up to him as Justin picked up the stuffed animal. It was a toy monkey with a happy smile, and though its light brown fur was faded slightly, its long, dangly arms and legs were still in good shape.

“Is this Curious George?”

“That’s Bobo,” the boy corrected. “Curious George doesn’t have limbs that long.”

“Bobo?” Justin exclaimed with a grin. “Awww.” When he started to to hug it, Clay rolled his eyes and sighed. “Hi Bobo,” Justin cooed.

“I’m pretty sure he’s a Curious George knockoff.”

Justin gasped. “Don’t call him names like that!”

“Okay, I’m taking him away from you,” Clay said, reaching for the toy. Justin merely spun away from the boy’s grasp.

“I love him. He’s so adorable!” When Clay audibly sighed again, Justin went on, “Does this mean I get to start calling you monkey, now?”

His boyfriend smirked at him. “Bobo is not a monkey, he’s an ape. Monkeys have tails.”

“I can’t call you ape! That’s not cute!”

Clay gave another sigh as he reached again for Bobo. “I suppose—his proportions are more monkey-like, anyway.”

When Justin handed the toy over, Clay brought it into his arms and squeezed it, and as expected, Justin’s heart melted.

“Awww,” Justin repeated.

Clay looked towards the door, which was still open, and blurted, “Shit,” before tossing Bobo back on the couch. “The social worker should not see me doing that.”

Justin glanced down the hall and it was empty. “Don’t worry, Clay, she’s a big softie, too.” He picked up Bobo from the couch. “Was this—what you wanted to show me that time? After you found me listening to all those—Disney songs?”

Clay smiled at him. “Yes, it was. I figured, you’d meet him eventually.” Justin grinned at him.

“Anyway,” the boy went on, “how’d it go?”

Justin went through his brief conversation with the social worker, and how she wasn’t worried about his hearing.

“Good, she’s right,” Clay said. “I hope you’re feeling better about the hearing, now.”

“Yeah,” Justin agreed, “I am.”

Lainie came upstairs a short while later and it was Clay’s turn to speak to Karen. She lingered in the room as Clay went downstairs.

“See anything you want to keep?” Lainie asked as she looked through the clothes. She started picking up a few shirts. “Oh, these are definitely too small for you.”

Justin had set aside a few pieces to put back into the closet. “Yeah, I do. Especially this one.” He picked up Bobo.

Mrs. Jensen grinned as she saw the toy. “Oh yes, Clay’s grandmother gave that to him. He never really grew attached to stuffed animals growing up—except for this one.” She took it when Justin offered it to her, and she spun it around to look at its side.

“He had a phase where it went with him _everywhere._ It was difficult, but I managed to sneak it away from him once because he got so upset when I washed it one time, and I needed to stitch up his seam.”

Justin laughed. “When Clay finds something to hang onto, he loves it with his all, doesn’t he?”

Lainie smiled at him, handing Justin back the toy. “Yes—yes, he does.”

As she continued to look at Justin, he met her gaze for a moment longer before setting Bobo down on the table and grabbing another pair of shorts for the “keep” pile. Lainie went on to say that he didn’t need to keep anything worn or tattered before leaving the room. After she left, Justin began to wonder in earnest—could she already tell what was really going on between Clay and him? Motherly intuition—was it a real thing?

He hadn’t meant to bring it up, but she did seem to imply with the way she spoke that—yes, Clay did, indeed, love him. Justin.

But did she know, exactly, what kind of love it was?

And more importantly—would it matter?

~ ~ ~

Lainie gave a brief tour of the house to Karen before the social worker left, right in time for dinner. Clay and Justin went up to work on homework as Lainie and Matt began prep on dinner. It wasn’t long before they all met again at the dinner table for a sort of debrief before a basic salmon, bread, and veg meal. Justin found it delicious, as usual.

“Well,” Matt said, “that’s another check mark on the list.”

“A long _overdue_ check mark,” Lainie insisted.

“She said she knew Dennis,” Justin remarked.

Clay’s mom made an agreeable _hmm._ “I’m not surprised, with his typical caseload.” She paused to take a sip of her wine. “In all honesty, I can’t fault her completely. The system is overloaded, and many fall through the cracks. We’re really lucky we’re this far—this early in the process.”

She looked towards Justin, as did Clay. “Which is why I’m still feeling really good about Friday,” Lainie went on. “How about you?”

“Same,” Justin nodded, taking another bite of his bread. “I’m feeling really good, too.” He caught Clay’s eyes, and they smiled warmly at each other.

After a moment, Matt said, “It seems the school sent out an e-mail about tomorrow’s—drills.”

“Mmm,” Lainie added, “yes, I nearly forgot. I spoke to Bolan about this, but it doesn’t seem he’s willing to budge. ‘Too many assets in play’ to push it, he said.”

“Right,” Clay scoffed, then grunted. “We heard about the drills, too. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised he’s not gonna do anything.”

“Surely,” Matt pressed, “this is all just a coincidence—the timing of it all, no?”

“Coincidence or not,” Clay said, “it’s fucking insensitive, that’s what it is.” When the Jensens eyed the boy, he hung his head to take another bite of salad. “Sorry.”

“I’ll admit,” Matt went on, “it is poor timing, with Tyler coming home, but things like this take weeks to plan.” He glanced towards Lainie. “There’s been talk for the same kind of drill on campus among the upper administration for the past several months, and still nothing solid’s come from it.”

Lainie looked between Clay and Justin. “There is going to be an increased police presence for the drills tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Clay chuckled bitterly, “totally not because Tyler’s gonna attempt another rampage.”

His mom gave a sympathetic sigh. “It’s not fair, I know. But ultimately—this is just going to have to be something we’ll have to grit our teeth and bear.”

After dinner, Clay and Justin helped wash up before heading back upstairs to finish their homework. Once they were in their nightwear and ready for bed, they turned off the lights and settled beneath the covers. Clay lay on his side facing Justin, who turned to face the boy when he noticed his boyfriend looking at him with a smile.

“What?” Justin asked with a grin.

His expression growing somber, Clay merely gazed back at him for a moment longer. Finally, he uttered, “I love you so much. You know that, right?”

When Justin swallowed, the boy reached over to caress the side of his face, his thumb stroking his cheek. “Being with you—has made me the happiest I’ve ever been in my entire life.” Clay nosed in for a kiss, sweet and slow, before drawing back. “I wanted you to know that, too.”

Justin stifled a sob as he forced a laugh. “Clay, you’re gonna make me cry!”

His boyfriend laughed with him. “Sorry, not sorry,” he offered. “Spoon you?”

“Of course,” Justin replied, shuffling himself into position.

After wrapping his arms around him, Clay kissed the back of his neck. “Sweet dreams, babe,” he whispered.

“You too,” Justin echoed, a wide grin shaping his cheeks.


	4. Lockdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liberty High performs a lockdown drill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to say that the timing of this chapter feels extremely ripe to me, but I suppose when you have a show that touches on such pervasive issues like this, it's always going to hit close to home.
> 
> I know many turn to fics for an escape, so I feel I must forecast exactly what will happen in this chapter although I don't know necessarily how Real(TM) this might land or if this might be triggering for some.
> 
> Tyler's rape by Monty is also discussed frankly in this chapter as well. It also directly refers to Scott's parts in High Hopes and Let's Hurt Tonight.

Justin hadn’t known Ms. Kirkpatrick to say or do very much during homeroom since coming back to Liberty. Most information to be disseminated out for the day would typically already be written on the whiteboard or she would talk about it as she passed out flyers. She was pretty laid back and Justin wished he had her physics period instead of Schaffer.

When Justin walked into the classroom, though, Ms. Kirkpatrick had a very different demeanor, and when the late bell rang, she shut the door and immediately asked everyone to settle.

“Homeroom was not extended today,” she began, “so I do not have a lot of time to go over what I need to this morning. Please—listen carefully, so that you know exactly what will be happening today.”

She picked up a piece of paper and stood right before her desk as she confirmed the rumors that an active-shooter drill would be occurring at some point during the day between fourth and sixth periods. That included the lunch periods.

“There will be a police presence here today to assist in the drill. They will role-play a police response to the active-shooter scenario and give the ‘all clear’ when the drill is complete.

“Listen very carefully: the drill will begin when the fire alarm sounds. We have conducted fire drills previously, but going forward, the fire alarm will no longer result in an immediate evacuation order. Within thirty seconds, an announcement over the intercoms will make the determination of an evacuation need. Today, the announcement will state that an active shooter has been spotted and a lockdown is taking immediate effect.

“If you are in a classroom, your teacher will lock and attempt to barricade the door. You need to move under your desk and out of sight of the door and remain as quiet as possible. If you are in the halls, you need to seek the closest classroom right away. If you cannot get into a classroom, you need to find a hiding place.

“If you are in the cafeteria, you need to move to the science wing or languages hall—whichever is closer, and seek shelter in classrooms there. If you are at P.E., you need to shelter back in the gymnasium or the locker rooms. If you are in a restroom, stay in the restroom where you are and remain hidden.”

Ms. Kirkpatrick looked around the room for a moment as everyone remained attentive, somber, and silent.

“The most important thing to remember,” she went on, “when the fire alarm goes off—do not panic. Wait for instruction, then hide—and remain hidden and quiet for the entire duration of the drill.

“Police will be patrolling the hallways and issuing orders and instructions. This is very important—you must immediately do as they say and listen to their instruction. Raise your arms and open your palms to them and immediately show that you are unarmed. We will not hold an evacuation scenario today—only a lockdown one—but if we were to evacuate, police would dictate and guide all evacuation routes and orders.

“When the drill concludes, an announcement will declare an end of the lockdown over the intercoms.”

She gave another look around the room. “Does anyone have any questions?”

A kid near the back raised his hand. “Why are we doing this?”

Ms. Kirkpatrick swallowed. “This is the world we live in, Theo. This is what we have to do to deal with the reality we face. This is what we have to do for the here and now.

“I know some of you might not take this seriously. I think some of you might not know what to feel. For the rest of you, this might be unsettling or make you anxious. However you feel—I first ask that you don’t let this rattle you, and that you try and proceed through the day as normally as you can. But when the drill starts—take it seriously. Keep calm, and—look out for each other.”

The bell rang to dismiss the period before anyone else could ask anything. The classroom remained oddly quiet as everyone left, and to Justin, the halls seemed to lack the regular hustle and bustle of a typical class transition as he went to first period.

It was almost as quiet as the first day back after the dance, when so many kids had stayed home.

Justin and Clay had barely talked about the drill that morning, so Justin had gone into the day not really thinking much of the drill. But as the day went on, and as he faced the air of nervous anticipation all around him, it was hard not to let it get to him. He texted Clay, and Zach, and passed Jess in the hall before lunch, and they all shared similar sentiments—that the looming drill was dragging everyone down.

“Fucking hell,” Jess had griped, “let them get this over with, already.”

_You doing ok?_ Justin had texted Clay.

_Yea, but this day needs to be over with_ was his response.

The fire alarm finally went off during physics. Justin, along with everyone else in the room, froze at their desks. Mrs. Schaffer, however, started for her desk right away and began dragging a large, thin contraption towards the door. With a bit of a struggle, she lifted the thing off the floor and into newly-installed inserts on both sides of the doorway near the handle.

_When the hell did those get installed?_ Justin wondered.

Two seconds later, Bolan’s voice came through over the intercom. “Attention, this is a lockdown emergency,” he said urgently, “I repeat, this is a lockdown emergency. Do not evacuate. Shelter in place immediately. Shelter in place immediately.”

“Everyone move under your desks now,” Schaffer commanded as she taped a large poster over the door window. Everyone immediately complied for the most part, although Justin along with a few others did not move as frantically as some of those near the front.

“Remain quiet,” Mrs. Schaffer went on. “Do not talk.” She moved away from the door and stood against the wall beside the doorway. “I wasn’t supposed to say anything, but the police are going to classrooms randomly to act like a shooter trying to break in. Stay calm—don’t speak. Don’t say anything.”

Whispers and grumblings echoed through the classroom as Justin pulled out his phone. _Fucking hell,_ they really needed to tell everyone that. He sent a message in the group chat.

Alex  
 _What the fuck?_

Zach  
 _Yeah, Donovan told us, too._

Jess  
 _that’s insane_

Tony  
 _Going for some realism I guess…_

Clay  
 _They should have fucking said that!_

Mrs. Schaffer didn’t say anything else. As a lot of kids likewise began to text, Justin was pretty confident word would get out to everybody.

The room stayed quiet, and for a long while, there just wasn’t much to do. People whispered sporadic conversations, scrolled through their phones, texted, all while under their desks. Justin was sorely tempted to sit back up in his desk, but Schaffer could be a real bitch and did not hold back from biting people’s heads off.

The period bell rang to dismiss the period. “Do not move,” Schaffer directed, “do not say anything. The lockdown is still in effect.”

More whispers and grumblings, but everyone stayed where they were. Justin felt his phone vibrate to see more messages in the group chat.

Zach  
 _They’re really making a point, aren’t they?_

Jess  
 _i can’t believe this is still going on_

Tony  
 _They can’t possibly be doing this for much longer_

Justin sent a message to Clay separately. _Are you ok?_

_Mostly,_ was his response. _Police banged on our door. Girl freaked out, I spoke up. Got fussed at. Cop yelled through the door that we failed._

_??? tf_

_I’ll tell u later. Annoying, but not a big deal_

Finally, after around ten or fifteen more minutes, Bolan came on the intercom again. “Attention, the lockdown emergency has ended. I repeat, the lockdown has ended. All clear. All clear.”

People let out groans, sighs, and collective utterances of relief as they got up from under the desks. Schaffer gave a few last notes on the homework while everyone began packing up. Justin left the classroom and found Zach along the way.

“Hey,” Justin greeted.

“Hey,” Zach echoed. They started to walk together. “Was that fucking insane, or was that fucking insane?”

“Did anyone freak out?”

“No, but the cops banged on our door. I don’t know how anyone was _not_ supposed to freak the fuck out when they did that, but it happened.”

They came across Tony and Jess near the math wing and Cyrus, Clay, and Alex ended up coming towards them, too, as they congregated near the hallway junction.

“Did anyone notice when they installed those barricades?” Cyrus asked.

“They started showing up like two weeks ago,” Tony replied.

“I honestly—didn’t even notice,” Jess remarked.

“Me either,” Justin added.

Jess let out a sigh. “This girl—started crying in the middle of the lockdown. And then they started beating on the door.”

“Did she not know, either?” Clay asked.

“No, she knew, but, yeah—it was a lot.”

Justin looked towards Clay. “The police banged on your door, too?”

“Yeah,” the boy said.

“Dude, don’t feel bad,” Cyrus cut in. “Ashley’s always fucking clueless. She never pays attention to anything.”

The warning bell rang. When it finished, Alex said, “They’re gonna debrief next period. Fun, fun.”

They parted ways, and Justin went on to fifth. As Alex had predicted, Mr. Hensley started the class with going over what just happened. Hensley asked for comments and feelings about the drill, and began talking about the larger context of everything and why they held a drill like that today.

Justin had to tune out for most of it, though, because he’d had enough of things by then. He was so over everything, and that whole day, especially. He found himself starting to get angry, too, although he kept his thoughts to himself. Clay had stopped Tyler, and nothing had fucking happened. Yes, it’d been serious, but nobody was hurt. This was a whole lot of trouble all over nothing.

But then Justin heard Mr. Hensley say that a mass shooting was occurring somewhere nearly every day, and gun-related violence was occurring somewhere every few minutes—or even seconds. That sobered Justin slightly, and he realized, yeah, maybe there was something to all of this.

When the school day finally ended, Justin met Clay at his locker, and his boyfriend seemed utterly drained.

“Hey, you okay?” Justin asked.

The boy sighed. “Yeah, I’m okay,” he answered, dropping a book into his backpack.

“Did you by chance give words during your debrief?” Justin gave a slight smile. He and Clay hadn’t yet talked about anything so serious, but he knew the boy had it in him. He definitely had opinions.

“No,” Clay said, giving a slight smile in return before sighing again. “Ms. Lane was pretty emotional during her talk. She was probably a lot more candid and went off script, if I were to guess.”

“What did she say?”

Clay shook his head. “I don’t wanna talk about it right now.”

“Okay.”

They left for the car, and didn’t say anything until they got inside of it. Once they were settled in, Justin gave Clay another once-over as his boyfriend took a moment to gaze out over the steering wheel.

“Clay—are you sure you’re okay?”

His boyfriend let out a long sigh as he gripped the steering wheel. “This country is such a fucking failure at so many things.” He shook his head. “I mean, nowhere’s perfect, but for all the things we get right, we get _really_ right, and for the things we get wrong—we get so, _so,_ wrong.”

“You mean, like today?”

Clay glanced at him. “Not just today, but—yeah, I guess I mean today. The drill. Ms. Lane called the drill a failure—not that we did it wrong, but the fact that we had to have a drill like that in the first place. ‘A systematic failure at every level,’ she’d said.

“And you know what? She’s right. What happened to Tyler, was a failure. The fact that he felt like he had no other choice, another failure. That he could get weapons like that so easily—a huge failure.”

He looked at Justin. His eyes glinted. “And the fact that there has been so little done over the years to change anything at all about all of this— _that’s_ the biggest failure of all. You remember Sandy Hook, right?”

“Yeah, I do,” Justin said.

Clay looked out towards the windshield. _“That_ was when we as a country decided that nothing— _nothing—_ was more important or _sacred_ than the poorly worded doctrine of an outdated amendment from a bygone era.”

He sighed again, then sniffled as he rubbed his eyes with his palm. “Fuck, I am in _exactly_ the right mood I need to be in to see Tyler right now.”

“You want me to come with you?” Justin asked, grasping the boy’s shoulder.

Clay met Justin’s grip and squeezed his hand back. “No, that’s okay. Thank you. I’ll drop you home, and head over to Tony’s. We’ll go from there. I shouldn’t be very long.”

The boy started the car and they set off.

~ ~ ~

It was largely a quiet ride home. Usually, when their conversations reached a lull, Clay would put on some music on the radio. Today, though, he left it off. Justin wondered if there was really anything he could do to comfort the boy, but the ride hadn’t been long enough for him to come up with anything. In all honesty, Justin was pretty drained, too.

By the time they came upon their driveway, Justin was feeling genuinely shitty. Clay had been so good with making him feel better yesterday, and now that the tables had turned, Justin was coming up short. After the boy set the car in park, Justin looked towards him.

“Clay?”

His boyfriend looked back at him. “Yeah?”

Suddenly drawing a blank, Justin bit his lip, then leaned in to kiss the boy. Clay seemed surprised, and was slow to respond, so Justin pulled back.

Clay let out a breath as he gave a forced smile. “What was that for?”

Justin heard a buzzer blare inside his head as he took in Clay’s reaction. _Wrong move_. “I—I just, uh, wanted to kiss you, is all…” He tried to smile back.

The boy gave a short, airy laugh. “I gotta go meet Tony. I’ll be back.”

“Right,” Justin said with a nod. He grabbed his backpack and stepped out of the car before shutting the door and briefly watching the boy back the Prius out of the driveway. _I am such a shitty boyfriend._

He made for the front door and tried to shove the thought away as he went inside. Justin tried to tell himself that such a shitty day coupled with the existential angst Clay tended to bring upon himself would be a tough nut for anybody to crack, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he, Justin, should know better by now. Sex was not something that made Clay feel better. In fact, the boy had to be in a better mood in order to want it.

Justin tended to be the opposite. He found sex to be a _great_ distraction, but he was always hesitant to push the boy if he didn’t initiate or immediately reciprocate desire. So Justin had no idea why he thought a kiss would make Clay feel better just now.

He went upstairs to Clay’s room and dropped off his backpack before taking off his shoes. It was so rare that he had the whole house to himself that—he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. Feeling a twinge of hunger, Justin opted to go back downstairs to figure out a snack from the kitchen.

What _did_ Clay do when he wanted to feel better? Justin thought back, and realized—school was actually the part of the day where they spent the most time apart from each other. Save for his recovery meetings, Justin was almost always with Clay for the rest of the day—and night. Even now, did Justin still not know Clay enough to answer such a basic question?

Justin opened the fridge. No, he knew. Justin knew. Clay read. He listened to music. He did his homework. He played video games, mostly on his laptop, but sometimes on the PlayStation. He’d sometimes squeeze in a quick run before breakfast, too.

Yeah, duh. Clay was an introvert.

Justin was so damn behind, nearly all of his free time was spent on homework and makeup work. And when he wasn’t doing that, he was usually making sexy time with Clay.

Homework. And sex. Surely, he and Clay had more interests in common than that?

What was he thinking? Homework was _not_ a fucking interest. Not his—Justin’s—at least. He _could_ probably get Clay off by reciting the Pythagoras theory or formula or whatever if he played his cards right, though…

The doorbell rang. Frowning towards the door, Justin shut the fridge and went to answer it. When he did, he found Scott at the doorstep.

“Scott?”

Reed tilted his head up in greeting as he kept his hands in his pockets. “Hey, Justin.” He glanced towards the empty driveway. “I just realized the answer to this,” he continued, giving a flat smile, “but Clay’s not here, is he?”

Justin smirked. Scott Reed was exactly the person he wanted to see at that very second. (Not.) He had the same lunch period as Clay, and Justin was in the one directly afterwards, and so he would often see them chatting and laughing together on semi-frequent occasion as they were leaving from and Justin was going to the cafeteria. Scott Reed was a closet fucking nerd and no doubt they were into a lot of the same things. More than Justin could relate to Clay with, at least. Justin did like some of the comics Clay liked, but he couldn’t even begin to match the level of nerd that Clay had ascended to over the years.

Justin never said anything, though. He knew he didn’t have to. He knew Clay was with him, and only him. But it didn’t stop those stubborn pricks of jealousy that liked to pop up whenever Scott was around.

“Why are you always asking after my boyfriend, huh?” Justin said with a smirk. He continued to give Reed shit when he could, and the latter took it mostly without complaint.

Smirking back at Justin, Scott droned, “I’m not making any moves on him today, or any day, I promise.” He sobered his expression and sighed. “I just needed to ask him something. I take it, he already left for Tyler’s?”

“Yeah, he did. Didn’t you have lunch with him today?”

Reed shook his head. “My lunch period got switched. I was actually at lunch when the drill happened.”

“Oh, I bet that sucked.”

Scott shrugged. “Yeah, I didn’t get to really eat, but it wasn’t too bad, otherwise. There were cops there, before the start of the drill, and they explained a lot and directed everyone where to go.”

Justin nodded. “Well, Clay pretty much dropped me off and went over to Tony’s. Is it urgent?”

Scott pulled out his phone and glanced at it before slipping it back in his pocket. “Yeah, it—kind of is.” He let out a quick laugh. “Don’t worry, nothing life-or-death this time. Can I come in?”

Justin prompted Reed inside and shut the door. They went over to the dining table and sat down.

“I—feel really dumb for asking this,” Scott said, “but I’ve—kinda, sorta—been on the periphery of all this business with Tyler. I still feel like I’m not really _in_ the group, or circle, you know?”

“But you’re in the group chat,” Justin offered.

Scott shook his head. “Yeah, I guess that’s something. But, anyway, all this time, I thought—Monty just beat up Tyler really bad. And, yeah, if you push somebody hard enough and keep on doing it, they’ll snap. But after the meeting yesterday, I realized—I missed something. Just like I missed something big with—with Jeff’s death, and when the tapes first got out.”

Justin eyed Scott. “Are you telling me, you don’t know what Monty did to Tyler? Didn’t you talk to Simmons and Greer?”

“Yeah, I did, but they never actually said what he did—only that they didn’t think he’d go that far. I’d just assumed, and I guess they assumed I knew, and…” He raised his palms and shrugged. “Well, anyway—I’m stupid, and I missed the memo. What did Monty do to Tyler, exactly?”

Justin shook his head. “Dude, why do you wanna know, _now?_ Does it matter, really, what he did?”

Scott shook his head, too. “I don’t know. Honestly, I’m hoping it doesn’t. But—based on how Clay talked about it yesterday—I’m guessing it’s worse than I thought. Much worse. I need to know, Justin.”

Reed sighed, then glanced towards the window for a moment. “I was planning on visiting Monty today during his visitor period.” When Justin cringed, Scott went on, “And I can tell by your reaction that you think that’s a bad idea.”

“Why do you wanna see him?” Justin demanded.

“You think I shouldn’t?” Scott countered. “Honestly, I’m surprised. You know what it was like, running with Bryce. And, I thought you might be able to relate to, to what he had to go through with his dad.”

He stared at Justin. “Can’t you?”

“Not after what he did to Tyler,” Justin scoffed.

Scott leaned in towards him. “What did he do?”

Justin bit his lip, leaning back and shaking his head as he diverted his gaze elsewhere. It felt wrong to repeat it, but he didn’t see Scott letting up.

“He raped Tyler,” Justin uttered. “Basically.”

He met Reed’s gaze, and registered the shock that swept across his face. “Simmons and Greer helped hold Tyler down while Monty stuck a broom handle up his ass. Literally.” When Scott let out a long sigh and looked down at the table, Justin continued, “Monty sodomized Tyler with a broom handle, dude.”

“I get it,” Scott breathed. “Fuck.” He looked towards the window, and was shaking his head as he seemed to bite back tears. “Fucking hell, Monty…”

“I can’t believe you didn’t already know. Tony and I figured it out, as did Clay, and everyone there in the woods that day—”

“I wasn’t there,” Scott reminded.

Justin nodded. “Right, yeah.”

Scott gave a flat smile. “And no one told me. Like I said—I’m in this weird in-between when it comes to the group, I guess.” He gave a bitter laugh and leaned back in his chair. “I can’t fucking believe he did that.”

“Well, he did,” Justin said.

Reed clasped his hands together before his forehead and was silent for a moment. Eventually, he looked back at Justin.

“I’m—I’m not saying, what happened to you, and what he did, are the same, or similar. But—you came back, didn’t you? You got another chance. Where would you be, now, if Clay and Tony hadn’t found you?”

“Dead.”

Scott’s expression twisted in anguish for a moment as he looked away. “I don’t want him to die, Justin. And he almost did die. His dad nearly killed him.” He looked back at Justin. “What’ll happen to him, if no one’s there for him? If he thinks everyone’s written him off? Doesn’t everybody deserve a second chance?”

Justin shook his head. “I’m not saying I handled it great—I handled it like absolute shit—but I regretted what I did. If I could go back and change it, I would. Believe me.

“Monty, though, in all the time I’ve known him, he’s always been an asshole. He’s never been sorry for anything he’s done. I doubt he’s even capable of regret. He’s probably just like Bryce—he’s a psychopath.”

“No,” Scott insisted, “no, he’s not. It’s an act. I mean, yeah, Monty can be cruel—and obviously, all the shit he did to you guys was way out of line—but you don’t know him like I do. When you saw him like that, bloody and dying on my couch, that might be the only time you’ve seen him afraid. I’ve seen it more than you have—each time after barely escaping one of his dad’s benders, and after those when he wasn’t so lucky.”

“Look, I know what abuse is like, all right?” Justin spat. “I never hurt anybody like that, though. Sure, I might’ve mouthed off—but I never did anything like what Monty did.”

“Yeah, but you know that fear, still,” Reed went on. “Trauma affects people in different ways. Most don’t end up inflicting it on others, but those that do—are they not worth trying to help, too?”

Justin forced a laugh. “What do you want, dude? You want Clay to help Monty like he’s trying to do with Tyler? You’re dreaming, man. Don’t even think of going there.”

“No, that’s not what I want,” Scott said. He sat for a moment and gazed at the table. “I—I don’t want it to seem like I’m picking sides, or that I even _have_ to pick sides. I wouldn’t ask for Clay’s help on this, but I do think he’d at least agree—everyone deserves a chance at redemption.” He looked at Justin. “Wouldn’t you think?”

“Only if they truly get what they did,” Justin replied. “Only if they change. Only if they know that they may never get it—and still try, anyway.”

Reed nodded. “That’s what I gotta find out,” he uttered. “That’s why I gotta see Monty—for myself.”

“What about Bryce?” Justin went on. “You think he deserves a second chance?”

Scott looked back at him for a moment. “Do you?” When Justin could only look away, Reed went on, “They’re not the same, Monty—and Bryce. He’s—he’s still got a life. Monty’s—he’s got nothing. He’s alone.”

Scott stood, and offered Justin his hand. Justin took it, and they shook. “Thank you,” Scott said, “for fixing my ignorance. I won’t tell anyone else, what happened to Tyler. I know that’ll be his story to tell, but if I’m gonna face Monty, I need all the facts.”

As they made for the door, he went on, “If you can avoid bringing this up with Clay, I’d appreciate it. He has enough to deal with, I think—especially after today.”

“Yeah, he does,” Justin agreed.

When Scott reached for the door, Justin called out, “Scott, wait.” Reed turned back to face him, and Justin let out a long sigh. “How do I make him laugh? Like, when he’s actually down, and the whole weight of the world is on him?”

Scott chuckled. “Dude, Justin, he is _so_ soft on you, it’s—kinda gross, honestly.” They laughed. “You are the one person who’s best equipped to make him feel better. Use what you know.” He shrugged. “Just, just be you. Just be with him.”

He said goodbye, and Justin waved him off as he went outside and shut the door behind him. Justin went back towards the fridge to make himself a sandwich. Maybe Scott was right—Justin really seemed to be pulling a Clay a lot, lately.

Justin was overthinking everything far too much.


	5. The Mind-Killer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin gets unexpected news about his past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been waiting a long time to get to this moment. I don't know how much of it I'll get out before the 5th, but, here goes!

Clay returned after Justin had finished his sandwich and was rinsing off his plate in the sink. He called out down through the main corridor in greeting, and the boy responded in kind while Justin quickly dried off his hands before trotting to meet him.

Justin practically leapt at Clay as he embraced the boy, who let out an amused grunt of surprise as Justin squeezed him in his arms.

“I missed you,” Justin cooed in a deliberately cutesy way.

Clay giggled, and Justin grinned. There it was. “I missed you, too,” the boy echoed, squeezing him back.

Justin parted from him. “How’d it go? You’re back sooner than I thought you’d be.”

“Yeah,” his boyfriend sighed, “it could’ve gone better, but it could’ve gone worse, too, I guess. He really wasn’t up to talking much, so Tony and I didn’t stay very long.”

“How is he?”

“Physically, he looked all right. But he said he was tired, and he’d actually only just gotten home before we showed up.” Clay pursed his lips. “He heard about the lockdown drill, though.”

“What?” Justin exclaimed. “How?”

The boy shook his head. “I dunno, but he knew. He—did make a joke about it, though, which is a good sign, I guess; he said he wanted to make an entrance.” When Justin grimaced, and Clay nodded, adding, “Yeah, but a joke’s a joke, eh?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Justin replied, frowning.

Clay let out another sigh. “It’s gonna take some work, and be slow going. He’s definitely not out of the woods yet.”

Justin took the boy’s hands. “Well, he knows he’s got us now, right? He’s got people?”

His boyfriend nodded. “I think so. We told him—everyone wanted to see him. He was still really hard to read, though.”

Justin squeezed Clay’s hands. “He’ll learn how lucky he is to have you watching out for him soon enough. I know I sure did.”

When the boy smiled at him, Justin went on, “I’m sorry about—earlier.”

Clay shook his head, his face twisting in confusion. “For what?”

“I was trying to make you feel better earlier. In the car.”

The confusion on the boy’s face lingered for another moment. “Oh, you—mean the _kiss?”_ Clay laughed. “Well, you did make me feel better, so—no apology necessary.”

“I did?” Justin said, astonished. “It—didn’t seem like it.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t show it better. I was really distracted.”

“Hey, hey,” Justin insisted, squeezing the boy’s hands once more, “no ‘sorry’ needed. I just—I get worried when you get heavy, sometimes, and I worry if anything I say or do can ever really be good enough to—to even take on the Very Big Problems of the world.”

Clay chuckled. “Don’t sell yourself short, Foley. You’re more than enough to tackle my ninety-nine problems.”

They laughed as the doorbell rang, and they eyed each other in confusion.

“Who’s that?” Clay wondered, looking towards the door.

“Again?”

The boy looked back at him. “What do you mean, again?”

“Scott came by looking for you earlier.”

They went to answer the front door. When Clay opened it, Deputy Standall and another officer behind him were on the other side—and Justin’s gut twisted.

“Deputy,” Clay breathed.

Alex’s father held up his hands. “No one’s in trouble, son, don’t worry.” He looked towards Justin. “I need to talk to you, Justin. It’s urgent. Can we come in?”

Justin looked at Clay and saw panic mirrored in his boyfriend’s gaze, but they stepped aside anyway and let Standall and the other officer inside. Clay led Justin to the den and they sat on the couch, the boy between Justin and the officers, while Standall and his partner chose to remain standing by the doorway.

“Justin,” Standall began, “when was the last time you heard from your mother?”

Swallowing, Justin replied, shaking his head, “Almost two months now, I think.” He glanced briefly at Clay, who was keeping his gaze fixed on him, before continuing, “A little before I got arrested.”

“Do you have any ideas where she might be?” Standall went on.

“The court,” Clay interjected, “haven’t you already been trying to find her for weeks, now? Why are you suddenly coming to us?”

Standall looked towards the other officer, whose name tag read Reece. “We got a disturbance call earlier today from your mom’s housing complex,” Reece replied.

“We’re still waiting on forensics,” Standall went on, “but we have reason to suspect there may have been some type of—physical altercation at her residence, and that she may be in danger.”

The wrench in Justin’s gut tightened the anxiety clamping down on his stomach. “That—that doesn’t make any sense!” Justin cried out, waving his hands apart. “We—she hasn’t lived there since… She’d been staying at her boyfriend’s house. Seth Massey! You know who he is, don’t you?”

“I am aware,” Standall confirmed.

“Before I ran away the first time, last year, she told me she was planning on giving the place up. Moving in with Seth.” Justin looked briefly at Clay again before steering his focus back towards the deputy. “That house can’t possibly still be in her name, can it?”

Standall appeared deep in thought. “Eviction proceedings were only recently filed. According to the property owners, the rent had been paid up until two months ago. Which—lines up with your mother’s disappearance.”

Justin gazed down at his lap and continued to shake his head. “That still—doesn’t make any sense.”

“The last time you heard from your mother,” Standall pressed, “did you see her? In person?”

“Yeah,” Justin answered, looking back up at the deputy, “I did.” He shot Clay another glance. “She told me—she was worried about him doing something to her, since he got busted again after fighting with Mr. Porter. I told her to take his money and run—so he wouldn’t find her.”

Standall looked towards Reece, who stepped away to utter something into his walkie-talkie. “So Massey would have reason and motive to pursue her,” Standall continued, “is that right?”

Justin nodded frantically. “If, if anyone’s after her—it would be him.”

“I take it,” Clay said to the deputy, “you don’t have any idea where this Seth is, do you?”

“He hasn’t been on our radar for a long time,” Standall replied, “not since he was released after his altercation with Porter.”

“When was that?” Justin exclaimed.

The deputy looked towards Justin. “He bonded out several days after he was arrested.” Justin felt his breath hitch. Standall went on, “Do you know where Seth might be? Or where he might frequent?”

Justin shook his head. “No, none.”

“Do you have reason to think if he found her, he would harm her?”

Justin clutched his hands together before his mouth as his gut twisted further, and as his knees had started to shake. “She said, before she left,” he uttered, “that if he found her, he’d kill her.”

The deputy let out a deep breath. “We don’t know anything else right now. It’s why we came to see you.” They started to make for the door, and Justin stood up with Clay to follow them.

“We’ll let you know what we find,” Standall said. “Amber Foley is already considered a missing person, but we’ve sent an urgent APB out for her.” Reece opened the front door, and Standall continued, “We’ll issue one for Seth—I’m confident he’ll turn up.”

When Standall shut the door behind them, Justin let out a sob as an excruciating anguish tore through his body. Clay caught him in time before he could collapse.

“Hey, hey,” Clay tried to assure, “it’s too soon to assume the worst right now, all right?”

“Fuck,” Justin let out, “this is all my fault.”

His boyfriend hugged him tightly. “No, it’s not,” he insisted.

“I took most of the money,” Justin went on, sobbing into Clay’s shoulder. “He must be looking for it—and if he managed to track her down… If he’s done something to her…”

Justin broke down crying as Clay shushed him, and rubbed his back. “Hey, hey, we don’t know that, yet, for sure. We don’t know anything right now.”

Another choked sob escaped Justin. “I guess this officially makes me an orphan, now,” he wept.

“Jesus, Justin,” Clay sighed, drawing back from him. He grasped the sides of Justin’s face and tried to dry with his thumbs the tears running down Justin’s cheeks. “You are _not_ an orphan. Listen to me—look at me.” Justin opened his eyes, and Clay continued, “You are not an orphan! It might not be official yet, but you’re a part of this family—and you always will be!”

Justin could not suppress the tears. “He’s got her, Clay,” he cried, “he’s got her, I know it.”

Clay grabbed his shoulders. “Justin, repeat after me, okay? _Fear is the mind killer._ Say it.”

“Fear is the mind killer,” Justin echoed.

“I must not fear,” Clay went on.

“I must not fear.”

“Fear is the little-death that brings total annihilation.” Justin continued to repeat after Clay. “I will face my fear. I will let it pass over me, and through me. And when it has gone past me, I will turn to see its path. Where the fear has gone, there will be nothing. Only I will remain.”

Justin managed to stem his tears. “The fuck was that?” He gave a slight laugh.

“It’s—from _Dune_. The Litany Against Fear.”

Bursting out with another laugh, Justin let out, “Oh my God.”

“It’s _supposed_ to help you get a grip so you don’t lose your shit,” Clay retorted, “and I think it worked.”

“Okay, yeah,” Justin sighed, “maybe it did. But—I, I have to do something! I, I can’t just—sit around doing nothing. We _have_ to do something!”

Clay furrowed his brow. “Like what?”

Justin frantically shook his head and threw up his hands. “We—we’ve got to go over there! I _have_ to see for myself—what happened.”

The boy shook his head. “I—don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Please, Clay!” Justin cried.

“I think we should let the police handle th—”

“Please, Clay,” Justin repeated, another sob bursting from him as he wiped his nose, “I need to go back there—to that house. If it’s still been there—if she’s still been going there all this time, or living there—I need to find out. I’ll know what to look for—if the cops missed something. I might be able to find out where she’s been, or where she was planning to go!”

“Justin,” Clay urged, his gaze sympathetic, “it might still be an active crime scene. We might not be able to get in. And if we do—we have no idea what we might find.”

Feeling the tears begin to flow again as a terrible hole bored through him, Justin offered, “I still have the key to there…” When Clay sighed, and his shoulders dropped, Justin went on, “I can’t do this without you. _Please_ , help me. If something’s happened to her, I can’t…” He sniffled. “We’ve gotta go— _now_. Before it’s too late.”

His boyfriend let out a deep breath. “Okay, okay. We’ll go.” Clay stepped back and took a deep breath. “Get your book bag and stuff. Let’s go.”

Justin ran upstairs to get his shoes and phone and back pack. He found his old keys in his gym bag, shoved them in his pockets, and came back downstairs to see Clay waiting for him by the door.

“I’ll drive,” the boy declared.

“But I know the way,” Justin insisted.

Clay opened the door and stepped outside. “Tell me where to go. You’re in too much of a state right now.”

Justin shook his head. “Okay, fine, whatever.”

After Clay locked the front door, they got into the Prius and set off. As they pulled out onto the road, Clay took Justin’s hand.

“Please,” the boy said, “try not to assume the worst right now. Let’s just take things one step at a time, all right?”

Justin looked towards Clay. When they reached a stop sign, the boy looked back at him, and Justin attempted a small smile.

“Fear is the mind killer,” he chanted. “I must not fear. Fear is the little-death that brings total annihilation…”


	6. xx After All That

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not trying to spoil anything, but I think you probably shouldn't read this if you haven't seen season 4 yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck. Season 4. Fuck season 4. No, that's not really fair. There were parts I loved. But I was in denial for so much of it. I've seen too many films to not know and it was right in front of me the whole time and. Fuck. I don't really know what to do right now because I feel broken, but I understand it. I hate it, but I get it. I don't know how I'll continue from here but I think the lesson of the end of the season offers is worthy enough to do so. I don't know why I'm doing it like this but I think this'll stay here as a marker, as a place of mourning. I know it's dumb and I should be able to do whatever I want but I hate it and he deserved better. I love him so much and — I'm sorry to do this. I don't know how long it'll be, but I promise I will persevere. I have a lifetime planned for them, honestly. and they fucking deserve it. I'm so sorry.

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was pretty distraught when I posted this and to be honest I thought of taking it down, but I don't think I will because I think it's important to remember how I felt in this moment. I'm grieving, and I never thought I'd feel like this in this way especially with everything going on, but I suppose that's what happens when you devote the last two years of your creative life to someone. This show will haunt me forever, but I'm gonna carry Justin with me in a way i imagine Clay will carry Hannah with him. I honestly don't know when I'll be able to post again but I am going to keep writing, because if Clay can do it, so can I.
> 
> Shit, I know this is irrational but here I am!! I'm sorry if I can't make you feel better right now but I'll promise I'll do better.


	7. The House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin tries to solve a mystery from his past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to our regularly scheduled programming. Chapter specifics out of the way: rating goes up slightly for this chapter, and some slight mentions of gore as well.
> 
> I promise I'm really gonna try to make this my last rant about season 4 (fuck season 4). Spoilers ahead.
> 
> Dylan did an interview with EW a few days ago and...gosh, I just have to say, it really set me back. I really get what he was saying, and I really do understand his reasoning--but...damn, I'm really disappointed. I'm not faulting him completely, and I think he really meant well. But--it still hurt. For me, it really read like a defense of s4, almost, and I couldn't help taking it like...like if you were grieving at a funeral, and someone came up to you and said, I'm really glad this happened, I'm so glad they died! Logically, I know that wasn't his intent, but in the state I was in, it really, really stung. It felt like a giant middle finger--that's what it felt like. Honestly, it made me feel used--and betrayed. Like it was so much more important to Make a (non) Statement(TM) with the show than see to the well-being of its fans. I get both sides of the argument, but with a show like this, and its history--who were you really making this for?
> 
> Anyway, I'm really gonna try not to dwell on this for the rest of the series, since I've already written out a whole thing on my tumblr about intent versus impact. I just needed to say this because I'm really gonna try to divorce this work from the show itself and really not let it change anything I had planned, although it may affect the timing of things since there are some pretty heavy things on the horizon in this and later parts.
> 
> And I think the lesson has really got to be that you have to create your own happiness, and not rely so much on others to do that for you. I know for me--that's exactly what I'm gonna try to do here. Create my own happiness and meaning for myself, and for Justin. Because I don't know how to do anything else. Because--
> 
> JUSTIN FOLEY
> 
> DESERVED
> 
> BETTER.

Justin was surprised that Clay had mostly remembered the way to the old house. After the daylight had begun to fade, they managed to park right in front of Justin’s old unit. With no obvious police presence in sight, and a clear view of the door, the only telltale sign that anything was amiss was the yellow CAUTION tape forming an _X_ across the doorway.

Clay set the car in park and looked over at Justin. “Are you sure you still wanna do this?”

Justin stared at the entrance. He forced himself to swallow as he felt his anxiety bubbling over. “Yes,” he uttered.

Clay pulled out his phone and began texting. “I’m telling mom we’re going to the public library for some books you need.” After slipping his phone back in his pocket, he went on, “Was there anything else you couldn’t say in front of the cops?”

After glancing back at the boy for a moment, Justin looked back out towards the house. “I went back to her, my mom,” he began, “that day I, I almost OD’ed. When your folks found out and, and I blew them apart.”

“That wasn’t your fault,” Clay cut in.

Justin took a moment, then continued, “Obviously, I didn’t go here. I went to Seth’s house. I mean, I think it was Seth’s house. Maybe it was theirs—maybe they really did move in together. But that’s where I was before, before I called you. That was the last time I saw her.”

Clay was silent for a few seconds. “Let me go in first.”

Justin turned to him. “Clay,” he began.

“No,” the boy insisted, “let me go in first, please.”

“Clay,” Justin pressed, “I can handle it.”

His boyfriend took his hand and squeezed. “I know you can, but, please—let me do this for you, okay?”

When Clay looked at him with such tender earnestness, Justin turned and settled back into his seat. “Okay,” he breathed. He let go of Clay’s hand and pulled out his old keys. Justin offered them to the boy, who took them, then stepped out of the car.

Justin watched Clay walk up to the door. He had the keys in his hand as he reached the entrance, but as he examined the lock—he put them in his own pocket before slowly pulling off one side of the caution tape. There was a piece of paper taped to the door, and after glancing over it, Clay was able to push the door open—without bothering with the door handle.

“Oh God,” Justin gasped, his gut reeling. He bit the knuckle of his finger and forced his gaze towards the car window. Clay was right. As always.

_I must not fear,_ Justin recited in his head. _I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total annihilation…_

He continued to run through the litany until Clay returned. It could’ve been a few minutes, or it could’ve been hours—Justin had lost all sense of time.

When Clay sat back inside the Prius and shut the door, Justin said, “Don’t sugarcoat it, Clay. Tell it to me straight. Please.”

His boyfriend exhaled deeply. “It’s a fucking mess in there. It looks like it’s been ransacked.” Justin’s breath hitched, but he kept silent. Clay went on, “The worst of it is—in the kitchen. Don’t go in there. There’s—definitely what, what looks like some blood on the floor and on the fridge in there. The rest of the place isn’t so bad, but—someone was definitely looking for something.”

Desperate to stop his emotions from breaking through, Justin kept his head forward and shut his eyes and mouth tightly. He inhaled deeply and managed a quick exhale without any tears. “Thank you,” he said.

“We don’t have to do this,” Clay quickly added.

Justin nodded, and opened the car door. “Yeah—yeah, we do.”

When Justin stepped out onto the concrete and shut the door behind him, Clay got back out of the car as well and followed him to the house. The boy had left the entrance open, and through the doorway, Justin could already see the toppled book case before he even neared the door. He cautiously stepped inside—and held his breath as he took it all in.

Clay wasn’t exaggerating. Justin looked out across the living room, and down towards the kitchen, and it seemed as if his mother hadn’t taken _anything_ with her to Seth’s place when they moved in. It was all still here—the couch, the TV, the furniture, all the stuff on the walls. But of course, now, they were either toppled over, broken, or on the carpet. Most were all three at once.

The couch was flipped over. There were holes, marks, and dents in the walls from stuff getting flung about. Justin stepped around the scattered books on the floor towards the bedrooms and spotted broken glass scattered across the carpet. He saw the dark red splash of wetness on the fridge and on the floor in the kitchen before quickly wrenching his attention elsewhere.

Justin jolted when he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Clay beside him, his eyes glinting. “Are you okay?” his boyfriend asked.

Shaking his head, Justin answered, “This doesn’t make any sense. Well—no, I, I guess it does. It’s like she didn’t take _anything_ with her. She left it all here.”

“So this is all your stuff?”

“Yeah,” Justin confirmed, “it is. I don’t know why it’s all still here.” When Clay was silent, Justin continued, “I don’t know _how_ she was paying rent for this place, if what Standall said is true.”

“You think she was here?” Clay asked.

Justin looked towards the bedrooms. “I don’t know,” he eventually answered, “but what I’m more sure about—this mess _has_ to be Seth. He had to have trashed this place. He had to have come here looking for her.”

One of the doors leading to the master bedroom was left open, so Justin stepped through the corridor and found his mother’s room in a similar state as the rest of the house. All the dresser drawers were open or pulled out, the bed was flipped on its side against the window, and the floor was completely covered in clothes, papers, and broken bits of mirror and lamps. It’d be fruitless to try to find anything like this, and Justin had no energy to even try.

“Can I go into your room?” Clay called from somewhere out in the living room.

“No!” Justin shouted, managing a slight grin. “Not allowed!”

“Too late!”

Justin let out a humorless laugh before walking back out into the living room and towards his old room. He saw the door open and the light on and—the room largely untouched as he stepped inside. He found Clay poking around nosily at his posters on the wall and his shelves and desk before Justin noticed his computer gone. He scoffed inwardly as he thought, _She must have pawned it, or Seth stole it._ It was a crappy, crappy, and ancient thing, anyway.

“It doesn’t look like anyone’s been in here,” Clay remarked.

“Yeah,” Justin agreed.

“Is it pretty much just the way you left it?”

“Mostly. The computer’s gone, but, it was probably the only thing worth anything in here, anyway.”

“Are you gonna take anything?”

“No,” Justin scoffed, “I don’t want anything from here.”

“You sure?” Clay turned around and revealed what he was holding. “Not even this?”

As he handed the thing over, Justin burst out laughing. “Oh my God!” he moaned, taking his old stuffed giraffe in his hands. “Where the hell did you even find this?”

“He was shoved between the bed and the nightstand,” Clay replied, “but I couldn’t help noticing it.”

Justin chuckled. _“She,”_ he corrected.

Clay was smiling at him, clearly trying not to laugh. “Oh, okay, then. What’s _her_ name?”

“Gigi,” Justin uttered, keeping his gaze on the giraffe in his hands. When Clay tilted his head back as a huge laugh escaped him, Justin grinned and threw the giraffe at the boy, who caught it. “Fuck off,” Justin said.

“Holy shit,” Clay breathed, another laugh slipping out, “you grew up with a stuffed giraffe named Gigi. I love it. I so love it. She’s definitely coming with us.”

Justin sighed dramatically before stepping out of the room. He went back into the living room to gaze at the utter calamity of the place once more. Clay joined him again a few moments later.

“What are you thinking?” the boy asked.

Justin shook his head. “I don’t know. I really don’t know. I don’t know what I’m looking for, or where to even begin. I mean, I came back here once before I left for good to find some money and stuff, but now… I don’t know if I’m gonna find anything.”

Clay presented a small key. “I found this near the kitchen.” It had a black plastic covering on the head of it with 3495 etched on one side, 412 on the other, and it was on a small, single key ring. “You recognize it?”

Taking it to examine closer, Justin soon answered, “No.”

“It looks like it could be a storage locker key, based on kinds I’ve seen before,” Clay went on.

Justin sighed. “I don’t think I have it in me to even speculate on anything right now.” He took a few aimless steps towards the broken TV.

“Well, I don’t think your mom was necessarily here when Seth was here. If the disturbance call came today, I think it’s safe to assume that was when he was trashing the place. _Someone_ must have come in while he was doing it.” Clay looked at him. “Why would he be so angry?”

“He’s a psycho,” Justin scoffed. “He’ll get angry at anything.” He swallowed, and tried to bite back tears as he gazed back at his boyfriend. “You think that’s her blood in the kitchen? How did it get there? Was there a knife?”

Clay regarded him sadly. “Yeah, there’s—there was a knife, but we don’t know for sure—”

Justin heard the footsteps right as they both looked towards the front door. A tall, old man appeared in the doorway, and he grimaced as he saw Justin.

“You,” the man hissed, and Justin felt a chill stab his core. “You’ve got some fucking nerve…”

Justin froze as the man came right for him—but in almost like a blur, Clay was suddenly in front of Justin, and the boy met the old man’s anger with a flash of his own as he glared right back at the stranger.

“Hey, hey,” Clay cautioned, not breaking eye contact even as the man loomed over them, “watch it.”

Clay’s ferocity gave the man pause, and it hit Justin. The old man wasn’t a stranger—he was the landlord.

“Clay,” Justin whispered, trying to pull the boy back, but Clay held firm—and even nudged Justin back slightly.

The old man broke the stare first and looked towards Justin. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Who are you?” Clay pressed.

“Clay,” Justin repeated quietly, “he’s the landlord.”

At that, the man broke out in a bitter laugh. “Yeah, _landlord_. Something like that. I’m the fucking property manager.”

Clay continued to glare at the man. “We didn’t do this.”

“Yeah, I know that,” the landlord spat, taking a step back, “I was the one who caught the asshole trashing the place.”

“Did you see what happened?” Justin asked. “What he looked like? What he was looking for?”

Scoffing, the old man replied, “Clearly, he was looking for your whore mother, I’d wager.”

“Hey,” Clay interjected.

“Did you see what he looked like?” Justin pressed.

Sighing, the landlord said, “I knew exactly who he was—that white-trash boyfriend of hers!”

“Hang on,” Clay interjected, holding his hand up to the man, “back up. Have you seen or heard from Justin’s mom?”

Sighing again, the old man walked over to lean against the wall near the door. “Not recently, no. Not for almost two months, now.”

“She said she was moving out,” Justin said, “and that was last year. Why is everything still here like this?”

“Look,” the landlord began, softening his tone, “I knew the kind of relationship your mother had with that man. She told me exactly what her plan was. She asked me for help—to keep this place going for her—so I did exactly that. I covered the rent for her—so she would have a place to fall back on.”

The old man shrugged. “My guess,” he went on, “she never told him, and when he found out, he was none too happy about it.”

Clay glanced at Justin for a moment. “Why didn’t you tell the police any of this?” the boy pressed.

The landlord stared at them for a moment. “What?”

“The police came to us,” Clay went on, “without any idea what exactly had happened here. That’s why we’re here.” When the old man didn’t answer, Clay said, “You didn’t make the call, did you?”

“I fought him off,” the landlord responded. “That’s his blood in the kitchen—not mine. I nicked him pretty good on his arm.”

“Why didn’t you talk to the police?” Clay demanded.

“Look,” the old man spat, “helping that bitch cost me my job, here. I sent her ungrateful ass some money before she vanished—on top of the rent I covered for her for this fucking place—and she had the nerve to report me to the HOA.” He gestured towards the door. “Hence the eviction notice, now, too.”

Justin took in the ring on the former landlord’s finger, and thought to the few times he witnessed the old man interacting with his mother. He’d always been friendly with her, and with hindsight now, perhaps a little _too_ friendly. He may have even been a little all over her, too—an extra touch here, a bit more smiley there—but Justin couldn’t be sure if it was just the past few months clouding his memory.

Still—that affection would have been exactly the kind of thing his mother would have used to her advantage.

“You were fucking her, weren’t you?” Justin sneered. When Clay looked at him, Justin added, “That’s pretty much what my mom does.”

The landlord laughed bitterly. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you’d think that, given how you left.” He glared at Justin. “She was devastated when you vanished, but looking back now—if they were crocodile tears—she was damn convincing. Trash begets trash—I should’ve known.”

“Hey,” Clay warned again, “watch it.”

The old man stood up straight and crossed his arms. “I think it’s about time you boys got the fuck out of here—before I report you both for trespassing.”

“We’re leaving,” Clay responded, “but we both know you don’t want the police involved. It’s obvious you don’t want them poking around you with questions.”

The boy prompted Justin forward, and Clay made a point to stay between him and the landlord as they walked out of the house. They got into the car and the old man watched them depart as Clay backed out of the space and started driving out of the lot. Shortly after they pulled out of the complex, however, Clay turned onto a dead-end side street and parked the car once more.

“Are you okay?” the boy asked, looking towards Justin.

“Yeah,” he sighed, and took in another deep breath, “I think so.”

“That guy was an asshole,” Clay went on.

“Probably,” Justin agreed, “but I think I’d be pissed too if I were in his shoes.”

“You think he was telling the truth? About helping her?”

Justin looked at Clay for a moment. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. There’s no way she could’ve kept that place for that long. I mean, evictions take a while, but not _that_ long, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, maybe he was having an affair with her, maybe he wasn’t, but he’s a creeper—that’s the vibe I got the few times I saw him. And there has to be a reason why he didn’t talk to the cops.”

He looked back at Clay. “Should we tell Standall about this? About him?”

Clay took a moment to think, and gazed out through the windshield. “Well, what did we find out? That Seth was definitely in the house, and he was the one that trashed the place. Someone must’ve called, if the landlord wasn’t the one who called. Maybe he thought it was your mom, and that’s why he went in before doing anything.

“But in any case, what do we take from that information? The result is the same, isn’t it? That they start going after Seth? Looking into this guy doesn’t necessarily help in that regard. Forensics will come back, and maybe they’ll link it to the property manager—do you know his name?”

“No,” Justin said, “I don’t remember it.”

“Well,” Clay continued, “if he has a record, they might pin him there, but he didn’t look hurt. They’ll definitely pin Seth there, and I guess rule out your mom.”

Justin smiled at his boyfriend. “You’re really trying to rationalize us not going to the cops.”

“No, that’s not what I’m doing,” Clay insisted, rolling his eyes. “We don’t have pertinent information with finding your mom, or Seth. I think we can reasonably assume she wasn’t there—today, at least—and it doesn’t help the cops to know he was really there since I doubt he has any reason to go back.”

Clay looked towards Justin. “Do you think he was really looking for something specific, or he was just trashing the place in a blind rage?”

Justin shrugged. “I dunno. I think—the latter. If he was looking for anything, it was probably the same thing I was looking for—to see where she might’ve gone.”

“And you didn’t find anything?”

“No, but you did,” Justin said, waving his hand near Clay’s pocket, “with whatever key that was you found.”

“Yeah,” the boy began, taking the key from his pocket, “I don’t know if it will lead us anywhere.” He pulled out Justin’s keys as well, and handed everything over. “Were you hanging onto these for any special reason?”

“No,” Justin replied, shaking his head as he dropped them into his backpack. He started to give the boy a look.

“What?” Clay asked.

Justin kept his gaze stern. “Why did you jump in front of me like that when he showed up?”

His boyfriend shrugged, as if the answer was obvious. “He was clearly pissed. I wasn’t gonna let him hurt you.”

Justin softened his expression. “Well, I don’t think your mom would forgive me if you got punched in the face because of me.”

Clay scoffed a laugh. “I would not have gotten punched.”

“Okay,” Justin let out, “admittedly, you did put up a fierce front, but you don’t know what that guy would’ve done!”

The boy eyed him. “I know how to handle myself. I wasn’t going to let him hurt you—or me.” When Justin continued to regard him skeptically, Clay sighed, then said, “Look, Tony’s been teaching me how to defend myself, all right? That month you were locked up? I finally started making good on a promise I made to myself to never let anyone like Bryce or Monty beat the shit out of me ever again.”

Justin gaped at him. “You’re shitting me…”

“No, I’m not,” Clay grumbled.

“So,” Justin started, grinning, “you’re saying—you could kick my ass now, Jensen?”

His boyfriend smirked at him. “I could always kick your ass, Foley.”

As a laugh escaped him, Justin popped open the door.

“Justin, what are you doing?” the boy demanded.

Justin stepped outside of the Prius and bent down to lean back into the car. “You have to show me, Clay. I have to see this!”

“Are you serious?” Clay snapped right before Justin shut the door. As Justin started backing away from the car, Clay stepped out and called after him, “Where are you going?”

“I told you!” Justin called back with a grin, and spread his arms wide. “You have to show me your moves, Clay!”

The boy gave an eye roll big enough to see from yards away before getting out of the Prius completely and shutting the door. He followed Justin down the street until they both came to a stop a few feet from each other. Justin held his arms out again.

“All right,” he said, “come at me, Clay!”

Clay shook his head. “I’m not doing that! I’m not hurting you.”

“Come on, babe! Show me what you got!”

The boy flung up his hands. “Tony hasn’t been teaching me how to attack people! I’ve only been learning how to defend myself.”

Justin took a few steps towards him. “Okay, okay,” he said with a smile. “If I come at you, are you gonna throws me on my ass?”

Clay crossed his arms. “I’m not doing this, Justin.”

“I knew it!” Justin goaded. “You’re _so_ bullshitting me. You don’t need to prove to me how hard you are, Jensen. I know you’re a lover, not a fighter.”

His boyfriend lowered his arms and continued to stare at Justin while his brow tightened. “Come at me, Foley, and see what happens.”

Unable to keep from smirking, Justin eyed Clay for only a moment longer before lunging at the boy. In another blur, and in a whirlwind of motions, Justin toppled towards the ground and found himself pinned against the concrete—with a solid weight jutting into his back and surges of pain erupting from his shoulder and down his arm.

“Ow ow ow ow ow ow!” Justin cried out deliberately. “Uncle, _uncle, uncle!”_

Clay kept him pinned for just a moment longer before letting go of his arm. “Oh my god, Justin, I was not doing it _that_ hard.”

Justin slowly turned himself onto his back before clutching his shoulder. The tingles were fast fading, but the boy didn’t know his true strength. Still, Justin gazed up at him and tried to keep a straight face for a few seconds as Clay began to look genuinely concerned—then slowly began to smile, which made his boyfriend chuckle as he looked away with another eye roll.

“Clay—that was _so_ fucking hot.”

“Oh my god,” the boy huffed, standing. “Get up.”

“I can’t,” Justin breathed, “I can’t move.”

Clay was beside him again in a flash. “What do you mean?”

Justin used their proximity to spring upwards and spin himself over as he closed the distance between them, landing against the boy’s lips. As Justin grasped the boy’s head, Clay fell back on his ass while they kissed and Justin went in hard and swift with his mouth and tongue. A soft grunt of surprise escaped Clay’s throat and he’d grabbed onto Justin as well mainly to brace against him—before starting to bring him even closer. Closer, but only just.

The boy drew back. “Justin,” Clay breathed.

“Get in the car,” Justin commanded.

They stood quickly and hopped back towards the Prius. When they were back inside of it, Justin moved towards his boyfriend and wasted no time in resuming where they left off from the street.

“Justin,” Clay managed between kisses. When he turned away slightly, Justin moved towards the boy’s neck to keep up the contact. “What are you… We can’t…”

“There’s no houses here,” Justin uttered, bringing their foreheads together, “no one’ll see us.”

“What are you—”

“I’m so fucking hot for you right now,” Justin went on, barely above a whisper. He reached down into Clay’s jeans and grasped the boy’s rapidly expanding erection through his underwear. “I need that thick, juicy cock of yours right—fucking— _now.”_

“Jesus Christ,” Clay sighed. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I need this, Clay. I need you—now.” Justin removed his hand from the boy’s crotch only to start undoing his jeans. He drew back slightly to meet his eyes. “Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop.”

When his boyfriend merely looked at him, Justin went on, “I can’t tell you how much I love you—but right now, I think I can show you.”

Clay seemed to be trying to steady his breathing. “I—I can’t guarantee I’ll last very long.”

Justin grinned. “You should start driving. It’ll give you something else to focus on.”

Bursting out laughing, his boyfriend countered, “I’ll crash and kill us both.”

Justin undid Clay’s jeans enough to free his underwear and gain enough access to expose the boy’s erection. “Well, I’ve gone too fucking long without taking your load straight from the source.”

He moved downward to take Clay’s cock inside of his mouth, and when his lips began sliding down the boy’s shaft, Clay let out a long _ohhh_ as Justin began sucking him off. Clay was always a satisfying mouthful and his jewels were just as substantial and lovely to massage within his hand. Justin’s own cock really started to throb as his nose stroked Clay’s bush and he inhaled his boyfriend’s core, raw scent—and it only made him want to lavish the boy’s cock with even more love and pleasure and tongue as it throbbed inside of his mouth.

He felt Clay grabbing onto his hair with both hands, seemingly to guide him, but really—to hold on for the ride. Justin used his free hand to steer Clay’s dick exactly where he wanted it and worked to overwhelm the boy as best as he knew how. Justin needed Clay to know how much he loved him and that meant taking his full load like his next breath depended on it.

“Holy _shit_ , Justin,” Clay exclaimed breathlessly. Justin was almost able to take the boy’s cock completely down his throat but the angles weren’t quite right and so he made do with vigor and suction and spit. He could taste that bittersweet teaser oozing out of Clay’s manhood with every bob—and Justin wasn’t going to stop until his mouth was filled to the brim with his boyfriend’s seed.

“Fuck, fuck— _fuck,_ Justin, I’m gonna!”

_Yes_ , there it was! Justin sped up just slightly more to edge them over the cliff only to slow his pace when Clay began letting out a loud, long, and slow groan as he started to come. The ejaculate shot against Justin’s throat and filled his mouth with sweet, searing heat and he immediately started to swallow to let none of it seep past his lips. Clay continued to moan as his cock shuddered several times against Justin’s tongue—the boy was always loud like that when he came like this. When the orgasm appeared to sap all logical thought and energy from his body.

Once Justin had thoroughly milked Clay’s cock of all its seed with his hand, he gave the boy a few last licks to get the last bit of come before drawing himself back up to meet Clay’s lips. The boy helped him up and eagerly met his mouth with tongue, and they continued to lazily make out as Justin let his boyfriend take the lead. He’d gone all out, and he needed a bit of rest. Just a little bit.

They eventually pulled apart to catch their breaths, and after resting their foreheads together for a few more moments, Justin sat back with a grunt and they grinned at each other as they lay against their seats.

“Do that again,” Clay sighed, “and I’ll beat your ass, Justin.”

“You promise?” Justin quipped, and they laughed.

They sat still for perhaps another minute or two, and then, Clay finally zipped and fastened his jeans back up before starting the car. As he did a two-point turn to head back out of the dead end, he said, “I can’t believe we fucking did that.”

“It was fucking hot, though, wasn’t it?”

Clay started to grin again. “Yeah, it was.”

“It was the fastest I’ve gotten you to come like that,” Justin added, grinning once more at the boy.

As they drove back onto the road, Clay said, “Oh, this isn’t over.” He smirked at Justin. “I’ve got payback planned when we get home.” He reached over to grab Justin’s thigh.

_Mmmh._ Justin’s erection throbbed once more against his jeans.

This was gonna be fucking great.


	8. Payback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin gets a wake-up call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter specifics: rating goes up again, here. This was originally where I wanted to have things sort of pause before the s4 debut (fuck season 4), so alas, this might end up being a slight break for a while.
> 
> And, ugh, I know I said I wouldn't rant about season 4 anymore but there was a video that came out on the Netflix channel this week that really pissed me off and was yet another setback for me. It was such a PSA, and I'm not gonna devote many more words to it, but if you need a PSA to explain your story, why not just tell the story that DIDN'T need a PSA?? -_- It was heartbreaking again to see Brandon get emotional, but all the pre-teaser stuff before season 4 feels real cheap now, and makes me feel even more used. I guess in a way, I'm thankful that this'll be the last time TPTB behind 13RW can do this. If you were upset by Justin's ending, know that he didn't just deserve better.
> 
> YOU
> 
> DESERVE
> 
> BETTER.

Lainie was in the den when Justin and Clay got home, which kind of put a wrench in things. She’d been clearly waiting up for them.

“You boys are back late,” she remarked as she turned off the TV.

Justin felt the heat in his crotch fast spread to the back of his neck. It probably didn’t help that he and Clay had been all dopey and smiley as they walked inside.

“Yeah,” Clay offered with a slight shrug and sheepish expression. “Sorry, we—we kind of lost track of time.”

“It’s my fault,” Justin said, hanging his head as he rubbed his bicep. “I’m stupid.”

“Justin,” Clay began.

“No,” Lainie admonished, standing up from the couch, “don’t put yourself down like that, sweetheart.” She patted Justin and Clay on the shoulders. “It just would’ve been nice to know if you two would’ve been back for dinner or not. Which, there are leftovers in the fridge, if you’re hungry.”

Justin shook his head. “I’m okay. I had something earlier.”

“Yeah, same,” Clay echoed. “I’m sorry I wasn’t more specific in my text.” He started for the stairwell and prompted Justin to follow. “We still gotta finish a few things before we call it a night.”

“Try not to stay up too late!” Lainie called after them. “It’s important to have a few solid days of rest before Friday.”

As they neared the top and were well out of sight, they looked at each other and grinned as they stepped into Clay’s room. After Justin shut the door behind them and they set their backpacks down on the floor, he stepped towards Clay ready to resume their mischief—only for the boy to put up his hand towards him, stopping him.

“Nah uh,” his boyfriend uttered. “You know how this goes.” When Justin stared blankly at him, Clay went on, “You haven’t finished your homework, Foley.”

Justin whined. Clay merely smirked, then said, “I’m gonna take a shower. You know what to do.”

He pouted, and stared in awe at his boyfriend as he went to grab a towel, but the boy appeared completely unfazed as he stepped out of the room and shut the door behind him.

Letting out a sigh, Justin grabbed his backpack and sat down at the couch. Admittedly, it _was_ one of the ways Clay motivated Justin to do his homework, but he didn’t think he’d pull that card tonight after everything that had happened.

Maybe it was his way for getting back at Justin for giving him head like that. Justin had definitely thrown things like that out there in passing, and perhaps Clay had assumed he’d never actually follow through on something like that.

God, it was so worth it, though—Clay’s reaction, and the way his boyfriend had simply melted in that car seat as Justin had started taking him in his mouth. And he couldn’t help but picture Clay in the shower, if not at that moment, imminently so, and the water wetting his soft, fluffy hair and running down his beautiful, smooth skin. Down his chest, down his back. And in between that sweet, plump ass of his.

_Fuck._ He was getting really hard. Frankly, Justin hadn’t really gone completely soft since the car. He let out a sigh and pulled out his notebook and pencil from his book bag and tried to focus on whatever shit was before him right then. Right—physics problems.

If Alice drops a ball while riding 15 miles per hour on horseback, what is the angle Justin needs to bend Clay over in bed in order to best get at his prostate?

Justin heard the shower start to run, then looked up towards the door and let out a long sigh. It was gonna be a _long_ night at this rate. He decided to skip the real-world problems and work on the more straightforward math equations.

He’d made it through a few when his phone buzzed in his pocket. Justin pulled it out to see a message from Clay: _What’s taking you so long?_

Confused, he made a face at his phone. He eyed the door briefly and heard the shower continuing to run. He then unlocked his phone to find three dots in the message thread, and with another buzz: _Shower. Now._

It was barely another second before Justin threw down his phone and notebook on the couch and leapt for the door. Slowly, he peered down the hall, saw the closed door to the master bedroom, and crept towards the stairwell to look downstairs. All dark. Then, with a huge grin sweeping against his cheeks, he tiptoed towards the bathroom door, opened it gently, and stepped inside.

The bathroom was warm, and the mirror had fogged up from the humidity. He slowly stepped towards the shower, only for Clay to swing the curtains open partway. He had That Smirk on his face.

“Took you long enough,” the boy quipped. He eyed Justin up and down. “Aren’t you a little—overdressed?”

Justin gave a sweeping shrug as he grinned in response and said, “I had to make sure the coast was clear!” before drawing his shirt up over his head and tossing it on the floor.

“Pants, too, Foley. We don’t got all night.”

“Yes, sir,” Justin said, eagerly obliging. Once stripped of his jeans and underwear, Justin stepped into the shower before his boyfriend and let the warm water begin to wash over him. Justin was smiling at Clay, but the boy was serious. He was all business.

“What are doing?” Justin uttered.

In response, Clay reached up to embrace Justin’s head as he closed the gap between them—and they started to kiss beneath the hot stream of water.

“You,” his boyfriend cooed between tongue-lashings, “are gonna fuck me in this shower. Nice and hard. ‘Till you forget all about today.”

Justin inhaled the boy’s hot breath as his erection twitched against Clay’s semi. “Fuck,” Justin sighed, “I want that so badly, but—I love you for this, though—you’re, you’re not exactly a, a quiet lover. If you know what I mean.”

He felt Clay’s grin against his own. “I know. So—you’re gonna fuck me from behind, and cover my mouth. And I’ll try to contain myself. Deal?”

_Jesus Christ._ Justin managed an airy laugh. “Goddamn, Clay… Shit, I—I forgot to get the lube. And, and the—”

“Check my pockets, doofus.”

It took Justin a second, and he reached around the shower curtain for Clay’s jeans on top of the toilet seat. He found in the front pocket—a small bottle of their lube, and a condom.

When Justin gaped at the boy in awe, Clay said, “You’re always going on about how you’re gonna fuck me in the janitor’s closet. So—I always try and be prepared.” He smirked That Smirk again.

“Fuck, I love you,” Justin sighed.

“Then show me. Bitch.”

Giving one last grin, Justin quickly sobered his expression, then spun Clay around against the wall. As the boy braced against the wall, Justin pressed himself against Clay’s back and thrust his hard cock teasingly between the boy’s ass cheeks as he kissed behind Clay’s ear. Clearly, Justin had been underestimating his boyfriend all this time. Maybe—he didn’t need to hold back as much as he had been. Maybe—Clay Jensen really was born to take his cock.

“You better not make a sound,” Justin whispered, “‘cause the more noise you make, the harder I’ll go.”

“Fuck yes,” Clay breathed.

“If it’s too much,” Justin cooed, “bite my hand, okay?”

“Okay.”

Justin deftly opened the lube and the condom (not like he hadn’t imagined the scenario a hundred times over) and quickly wrapped up his erection before lubing up his fingers as Clay spread his legs apart. Justin reached down between Clay’s ass and felt for that warm, sacred entrance, and felt it eager to accept his slick, prodding fingers.

Clay had been getting good with starting off with two fingers, so in and upward went Justin’s index and middle fingers. Clay let out a deep, audible exhale as Justin felt him expand and contract around his digits. There was barely any resistance. His boyfriend was ready for him. And the real thing. But Justin continued to tease him, and let him continue to adjust as he gradually slid in a third finger. Clay let out a low _ohhh._

“Fuck, you’re gonna get us caught, Clay,” Justin laughed.

“What difference between here, and at school, huh?”

“I don’t think you’re gonna be able to keep quiet enough.” Justin kissed the boy’s shoulder.

“Wanna bet? I can keep quiet. But honestly, I win either way.”

Justin felt his cock throb again as the boy smirked. “All right,” Justin breathed, “you asked for it.”

He slowly removed his fingers and grabbed the bottle of lube once more to slather his own erection, and Clay’s hole for good measure. Justin brought the head of his cock towards his boyfriend’s entrance—and slowly, began to press forward. Clay let out a long, low moan as Justin began filling him up.

“Oh, _fuck_ , that’s good,” Clay sighed. When Justin shushed him, the boy went on, “You’re not holding up your part of the bargain, Foley.”

“I know,” Justin uttered, “but I’m gonna make sure you’re good, first!”

The boy let out another grunt as Justin was almost completely inside of him. “When are you gonna believe me—that I was born to take your dick?”

With that, Justin reached around with one arm to cover the boy’s mouth and the other to pull him from against the wall. As he brought Clay against him, his boyfriend yelped an approving grunt from his throat.

“I’m gonna fuck you at my pace, got it?” Justin hissed, and Clay nodded eagerly against his palm. Justin began to slowly grind against him, and the boy immediately started humming in pleasure.

_Fuck_ , did Clay feel so fucking good against him. Hell, he always felt so good. Tight and hot and _oh so fucking amazing._ He helped the boy raise his leg against the edge of the tub before Clay completely settled against Justin and reached up to grip his forearm and hand. Clay wasn’t just bracing himself—he was making Justin cover his mouth even tighter.

It was a new angle for them, and it took a few small adjustments for Justin to get the hang of their position, but once he felt Clay start to truly melt into his arms—and his head completely relax into his shoulder—Justin really began pounding into him. Predictably, the boy could not remain silent, but the steady streaming of the shower coupled with Justin’s grip against his mouth were enough to stifle Clay’s moans, groans, and squeals.

“You like that, Clay?” Justin uttered. “That feel good?” Clay nodded frantically and Justin could hear the moaned _yes_ that formed against his palm. Justin varied his pace, tossing in faster, shallower thrusts, with slower, deeper ones to keep Clay (literally) on his toes. Clay’s ass clapped satisfyingly against his crotch with every few thrusts, but the noise that resulted was something he had to avoid as it echoed tellingly against the walls of the bathroom.

“Fuck, you’re taking me so fucking good,” Justin sighed. “You always take me so fucking good.” His boyfriend whined in agreement, and Justin reached to stroke Clay’s semi to full mast. Having practically his boyfriend’s whole body against him like this was a revelation and Justin could feel himself sweating despite already being soaking wet—their heat, literally and figuratively, was so intense. Justin felt himself getting close, and Clay was never far behind once Justin began jacking him off.

Clay began moaning more fiercely against his palm as his voice rose in pitch. The boy’s erection reached fever pitch in Justin’s grip, and he soon gave up any pretense of an attempt to stay quiet. Justin began pounding him all out, and let himself grunt quietly in sympathy with Clay as he felt the orgasm building inside of him.

“Yeah baby,” he whispered, “yeah, fuck yeah, _God_ , you’re gonna make me come, babe!”

His boyfriend began to squeal and Justin felt the boy’s cock begin to throb in earnest as his sphincter tightened against him, and Justin had to press his own mouth against Clay’s shoulder to suppress his own cry of ecstasy as the orgasm winded him and stumbled his meticulously-paced thrusts. He felt his cock surging with rapture and come inside of Clay, and it took everything and _was_ everything to hold onto him as they came together.

Before long, they were simply leaning against each other, frozen in place. Justin still had his hand over Clay’s mouth, so he used the opportunity to gradually pull out of Clay before going completely soft, and the act drew one last stifled yelp before Justin let go of him. He then pulled the boy back under the shower stream to let themselves soak in the lingering bliss of their orgasm.

“Obviously,” Clay began, “I completely failed at that, but _fuck_ —was that good.”

“Mmm,” Justin agreed, “that’s probably the best you’ve taken me, yet.”

Clay turned around and they made out for another moment beneath the shower head. Once they drew apart, the boy said, “Let’s finish up, shall we?”

They cleaned up, soaping, shampooing, and rinsing each other off in easy silence. As they dried off, Clay made sure to wrap the condom in several tissues to dispose of the evidence (he was always a lot more careful than Justin when it came to that) and they grabbed their clothes before carefully tiptoeing out of the bathroom, towels around their waists, and back down the hall.

After they threw on their nightwear, Clay glanced over Justin’s notebook on the couch.

“I take it you didn’t get very far?”

“No,” Justin admitted, offering a pout, which made his boyfriend smile.

“Well, I’m hungry, anyway.”

Justin laughed. “Fuck, you didn’t starve yourself just for that did you?”

Clay smirked. “I wasn’t planning on it, _per se_ , but it worked out.”

Justin settled back on the couch as Clay went downstairs for food. He returned shortly with what must have been the leftover bread and pasta from dinner and ate ravenously while Justin worked. He went back down for seconds before starting on his own homework, and it was late into the night before they both finished. Well, Clay naturally finished first, and managed to clean up his plate and brush his teeth before Justin finally finished and could do the same.

They settled into bed, and Clay opened his arms for Justin to settle beside him. As Justin rested against his chest, the boy asked, “Did it work?”

Justin glanced up at him. “Did what work?”

Clay grinned. “Our—shower, um, _escapade.”_

Chuckling, Justin shifted upward to kiss him. Leave it to Clay to be embarrassed about his horniness after the fact. “Yes,” Justin assured, “it did.”

His boyfriend gazed at him when Justin drew back. “How are you feeling?”

Justin settled into his pillow. “Honestly, I wish I knew she was okay.”

Clay gave an understanding smile. “Have you thought a lot about her lately?”

“Maybe,” Justin admitted. “I’ve really been trying not to. Today—just made me realize, I just assumed she was okay. I just assumed she got away. What if I’m wrong? Am I gonna have to deal with not knowing, too? Does it make me a shitty person for not even _thinking_ about the possibilities until now?”

Clay reached up to caress the side of his face. “No, it doesn’t. We looked for your mom for a long time. You had no reason to think that anything happened to her. And we still don’t have any reason to—so don’t fret.”

Justin swallowed. “What if he comes here? What if he finds us?”

“Why would he come after you? He thinks your mom has the money, doesn’t he?”

“I mean, if he thought I had a way of finding her…”

Justin turned onto his back and looked up towards the ceiling. “A few weeks ago, I thought I was being tailed one day. This was before we found Monty again. I thought it could’ve been him at first, but then I thought it could’ve been Seth, too. I don’t know who it was, but I made sure I lost them before getting back here.”

“Was that the only time?”

“Yeah. I’ve been making sure.”

“Come here,” Clay prompted, and Justin nestled back against him. He was infinitely grateful for his boyfriend’s warm embrace.

“There’s nothing to suggest he’ll come here, or come after you,” Clay went on. “Try not to stress about it, okay? We’re gonna be all right.”

Justin held onto him, and tried to shut out the doubts from his mind. But, as he tried to fall asleep—for the first time in a long time—his anxiety persisted.

Clay kissed his hair and squeezed him. “I’ll keep you safe. Don’t you worry. No one’ll fight harder for you than I will.”

Feeling a swell of warmth envelop him, Justin smiled, and squeezed the boy back. “I know.”

“I love you. Sleep tight.”

“I love you, too.”

There was one thing that he was sure about. As sure as he’d ever been about anything.

He trusted Clay with his life.

And, if he had to, Justin would lay down his own to protect him.

Without doubt. Without hesitation. Without question.

Without fear.

~ ~ ~

Hump day. T-minus two days until his hearing. The realization dawned on Justin immediately as their alarm went off and persisted in his thoughts as he and Clay got ready for school. The drive to Liberty was a quiet one, which Clay clearly noticed as they were almost there.

“You’re sure talkative this morning,” the boy quipped.

Justin turned his gaze from out his window towards his boyfriend and offered a quick smile. “Sorry,” he said.

Clay didn’t force the issue, though, and they pulled into the Liberty parking lot soon after. Zach happened to be parking right as Justin and Clay were getting out of the car, and he greeted them as they began walking towards the main entrance.

“Say,” Zach said as he caught up to Justin and patted his arm, “you haven’t thought more about joining the team, have you?” He began playfully punching his bicep with both hands. “I know Friday’s your hearing, but there’s an extra practice on Saturday just calling your name…”

Justin chuckled as he saw Clay looking between them. “I’m still thinking,” Justin said, “still simmering.”

“Come on, we can celebrate Bryce getting his ass handed to him at his new school!” his friend went on. “Convicted rapist definitely carries a certain—well-deserved pariah status.”

“What?” Justin asked.

Zach shrugged. “I mean, I’ve only heard rumors, but it looks like Hillcrest hasn’t exactly welcomed him with open arms.”

Justin swallowed. “Huh.”

His friend patted his back as they entered the school. “Scott and I will be keeping you in our thoughts as we suffer through sprints. Lemme know if you change your mind. See ya.”

Justin echoed a goodbye, then noticed Clay watching Zach leave with a slightly disappointed look.

“What’s up?” Justin asked.

His boyfriend shook his head. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“He hasn’t gotten on board with Tyler, yet, has he?” Justin offered.

Clay shook his head again. “Oh—yeah… No, he hasn’t. I know he and Tyler were never really friends, but if Cyrus and everyone else can get behind him…” He sighed.

“Want me to talk to him?”

“No,” Clay said, “you don’t need to get in the middle of it. I’m sure Jess is right—he’ll come around eventually.”

His boyfriend lingered, giving him another look. “Are you okay?”

Justin quickly met his gaze and nodded. “Yeah—yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

When the warning bell rang, Clay gave Justin a quick hug goodbye, and they gave one another a knowing smile before they left for their lockers. Their morning parting ritual. With either a kiss or a hug goodbye, Justin always found it funny how he’d never know which one he was gonna get. And that their first goodbye of the day tended to be the only window where Clay wouldn’t be embarrassed by PDA. He and Justin, as a couple, weren’t officially public, still, but for all intents and purposes, they were pretty much an open secret.

As he was headed towards first period, Justin happened upon Scott at his locker. When Scott nodded at him in acknowledgment, Justin came to a stop near him.

“‘Sup,” Justin greeted. “I’m curious—did you end up visiting,” he quickly glanced around them for show, and brought a hand towards mouth as he lowered his voice to a faux whisper, “you know who?”

Scott suppressed a smile. “No, I couldn’t. I wouldn’t have made it in time. But,” he glanced around himself flamboyantly, and also began whispering loudly, “I plan on trying again next week.”

Justin grinned for a moment. “You think he’ll even see you?” he asked, sobering his expression. “He has a choice, you know, of whether to go or not.”

Shrugging, Reed replied, “I hope so. I’d hate to drive all that way out there for nothing.”

As Justin made to leave, Scott went on, “Hey, wait, I made a bet with Zach—if I gave you fifty bucks, would you at least come to the practice on Saturday?”

Justin burst out with a laugh. “What?”

Scott grinned. “We’re trying to see who can convince you to join the team.”

“How much did he bet you?”

“Not money, but it’d really be worth it for me. And—the team, of course, to have you on it!”

Justin rolled his eyes and smirked. “I’m good, but thanks, though.”

Scott shut his locker, then bit his lip. “Shit, I didn’t—offend you, did I? Offering you money? I wasn’t—I mean…”

Justin laughed and rubbed his face. “God, you and Clay must have the _longest conversations…”_

“Well, what do you want?” Reed asked, slinging his backpack on his shoulder. “What can I get you to change your mind?”

Justin started walking again but looked back at Scott, spreading his arms wide. “I got all I need, dude. I’m good!”

_Yeah, fifty bucks not too long ago—would’ve definitely gone towards something_ , Justin thought as he kept going towards first. It was amazing, really, how it could’ve felt like a lifetime ago—that life—and yet still not be that long ago, in truth.

It was recent enough for his craving to poke through suddenly just beneath his skin. Either Scott had become really hyper-aware of Justin’s struggles—or Clay must’ve shared some details with him, intentionally or not. It shouldn’t have bothered Justin, the thought of Scott and Clay being friends, or even them talking about him, but it did—sometimes. Just like those moments when securing a hit still crossed his mind—in spite of everything he had done.

_Feelings, not fixes._ Feelings, not fixes. Actions, with words. Actions—not just words. It was okay he still had those thoughts, and to acknowledge them, and the real power lay with him in how he would handle them. As Justin reached his English class and settled into his desk, he couldn’t help smiling to himself as he felt a sense of empowerment flow through him. Shit, maybe his recovery _was_ working like it should.

Clay trusted him to do the right thing. Maybe he, Justin, simply needed to do the same. Trust himself.

And it was okay if his boyfriend confided in others about their relationship. Loving him, Justin, wasn’t an easy thing. Maybe that was just the trade-off for Justin to love Clay as easily as he did.

For the easiest love in his life by far—Justin could live with that.

~ ~ ~

Justin really started thinking through the possibility of joining the football team as he went to gym, and as he got dressed in his workout clothes in the locker room. Logistically speaking, he hadn’t needed to carry around his gym bag for a few weeks since he didn’t need to plan for the extra workouts or an extra set of clothes. On one hand, it surely made things easier, but on the other—he actually did kinda, sorta, miss it. The ritual of it all. The extra responsibility and, well, structure.

He wouldn’t be able to ride home with Clay most of the time, probably. Justin could probably ride with Zach, but Clay’s house was sorta out of the way for him. Justin thought to the other guys on the basketball team and how some of their girlfriends would sit on the bleachers to watch practice or do their homework, and he chuckled as he thought of Clay up on those bleachers with them. Would his boyfriend do the total boyfriend thing and watch his practices?

And—his old letterman jacket. Clay still had it stashed up in the closet for him but Justin had never dared to wear it again since…everything. He couldn’t deny all the feelings and—shit—that that simple piece of clothing stirred up but he had to admit that he had liked wearing it since, quite simply, the other guys did, too. Could Zach really turn things around, after Bryce? Could his friend really smooth out the divide between the so-called _jocks_ and the rest of the school?

Justin hadn’t even asked Clay either, he realized as he stepped out onto the track outside. Probably because he hadn’t bothered really thinking about it, himself. If Clay didn’t like him doing it, Justin definitely wouldn’t do it—but would he, though? He couldn’t see the boy having a problem with it, but then again, if he didn’t, there’d just be one less thing standing in the way of Justin joining the team and rejoining a life of sports in general…

And potentially—old habits.

He bent down over the concrete and started to stretch as others around him did the same. Free period for today, as had been the pattern for the week, so far. Justin thought about getting up early with Clay, and them going out for a run together. The boy hadn’t done it in a while—mainly because of their _other_ more fun morning ritual—but Justin had to admit that getting back in shape did appeal to him. And if last night was an indicator of the potential _fun_ they could have after a run together—with them both hot and sweaty…

Justin forced the thought from his mind, as a boner in his gym shorts was _not_ a thing he needed before a jog. Especially since his split times had been in the gutter. He tried to focus on his stretches instead, and as he held one of his legs back by his toe, he continued to ponder what the title _Justin Foley, Athlete_ would mean, now, at a Liberty High without Bryce Walker.

Bryce. Justin could honestly say the name hadn’t even crossed his mind for a long time, and he was proud of that. But since Zach had mentioned him that morning, his old friend _(brother)_ lingered in his thoughts—especially after what Zach had said about Bryce at Hillcrest, and how he was supposedly doing...

Fuck, he should’ve relished the fact—Bryce Walker deserved it, at the very least. Because in a way, if his old friend _(brother)_ was doing just dandy, it’d be a lot easier to just hate him and keep him in another little box on the shelf. Out of sight, out of mind. But—just like his addiction—caring about Bryce was another habit far older and more deeply engrained in his psyche than his cravings, and as much as Justin hated admitting it, the feeling wasn’t something that he could shake—deep down.

Justin began to stretch his other leg when he spotted a truly horrifying old ghost out beyond the fence surrounding the far field. The hair, and the tattoo on his neck—were unmistakable. Straight out of a bad dream.

Of a nightmare.

_Seth_.

As Justin felt his blood chill, Seth gestured over his shoulder out behind the field. When Justin didn’t respond—he was frozen—Seth tapped his watch-less wrist before gesturing over his shoulder again.

He then pulled out a crumpled piece of fabric from his jacket pocket. At this distance, Justin couldn’t be absolutely certain, but—it looked like a scarf, and his gut wrenched. Although his mother didn’t own many fancy things, the thin, beige fabric was one of the few things she wore sometimes to gussy up.

He could also easily imagine it—being something she used to try to conceal herself. Out on the run. From being recognized…

_Shit, shit, shit, shit…_

When Seth started walking away from the fence, Justin looked over to where he had pointed. Based on the direction, and as one of the relatively few secluded areas on school grounds, Justin realized he was making for the storage shed. The old clubhouse. Coincidence? It had to be. But as his mind started racing, Justin couldn’t be fucking sure.

_Don’t follow him._ How could he not? Would he really try something _here_ of all places? _Don’t follow him._

Despite the thought echoing in his head, Justin started on his jog, his heart already racing, but as he went down the track, he quickly stepped onto the grass and slipped through the gap in the fence. With the shed in sight, he treaded on the dirt while he tried to steady his breaths. As his pulse pounded in his ears, he tried to scan through the possibilities in his mind.

His phone was in his locker, so he couldn’t call for help. But if he went missing, people would know. Clay would know right away. And then he’d freak. Would it be too late, by then?

Would Seth really try anything? Justin might be able to take him now. Probably. Maybe…

Justin reached the door of the shed. _Fear is the mind-killer_. He took a deep breath, then slowly pulled the door open.

Seth was standing against the far wall, leaning against it with his arms crossed. “Justin,” he growled. “Long time—no see.”

Justin stepped inside and swallowed, leaving the door open. As he tried to steady his voice, he managed, “Wh-what do you want?”

Seth took a few steps towards him, keeping his arms crossed. “I think you know, buddy.”

Justin swallowed again. It took everything in him not to take a step back. “I don’t know where my mom is,” he uttered. “I haven’t seen her since I’ve been back…”

At that, Seth chuckled. He pulled out the scarf from his pocket again, eyeing it, and even in the faint light of the shed, Justin could tell—it was stained with spots of something dark. His gut twisted, again.

“Take another guess,” Seth sneered.

Anger burst within Justin, smothering the fear. “The cops are fucking after you,” he snapped. “They’re gonna find—”

Seth leapt at him and slammed him against the wall of the shed as he clamped his hand around Justin’s throat. Justin fruitlessly clutched at the larger man’s arm as he felt his windpipe collapse, and couldn’t stop gagging for breath as he felt the blood slowly drain from his head.

“I’m not playing games here,” Seth snarled. “I know you stole from me, and I’m here to fucking collect. Since you got a new family looking out for you, I don’t just want what’s mine— _ten grand_ oughta cover things. What you should be able to get your hands on by tonight.”

He let go of Justin, who choked as he gasped for air, only for Seth to throw him to the ground. Pain exploded in his gut as the asshole kicked him in the stomach, his boot folding Justin in half as agony overtook him and made his vision blacken.

“Dawson Pier. Nine PM. Bring me my money—or you’ll never see your bitch-ass mother again.” Seth knelt beside him, and Justin couldn’t help cringing even further into the floor as he trembled, his voice spasming. “Oh,” the asshole went on, “and you even _think_ about snitching to the cops again, _I’ll know_. And the deal’ll be off. So you choose your next move wisely.”

Justin heard him walk out of the shed as he clutched his stomach and continued to tremble against the coarse floor of the shed. _Asshole, asshole. Fucking asshole…_

As he felt the tears come, Justin managed to sit up, but the effort was excruciating. Gradually, he managed to stand, but couldn’t right himself completely, yet, for the pain in his gut was too great. He stumbled out of the shed, saw Seth nowhere in sight, and made straight back for the school—the locker rooms. From the shed, there was a more direct way than through the field, and he managed to get back inside the building before his strength buckled again.

Justin fell against his locker right as he felt the spasms in his throat spreading throughout his body. He yanked it open, and reached straight for his phone. This one singular goal had carried him from that shed—and he quickly felt his sanity and his togetherness crumbling as he typed out the messages to Clay.

_Help_

_Help_

_SOS SOS_

_Locker room help_

When the phone slipped out of his hand onto the floor, Justin collapsed right along with it, and he finally let himself weep freely as he came to a rest against the locker beside him.


	9. SOS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin breaks the news to Clay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back at it now; hard to believe it's nearly a month since THAT season debut. Just a shorter buffer chapter for now, to get back in the groove of things. The next chapters will have significant...plot, I suppose, haha.
> 
> Thank you for all your comments so far. If you felt like I did with S4, I hope you're doing better with time. I don't know if these upcoming drama/angst chapters will necessarily make you feel better, so I apologize in advance...

“Justin? Oh my god.”

Clay was in the locker room far quicker than Justin had expected. He looked towards his voice as the boy dropped his backpack and knelt beside him and Justin immediately embraced him—clutching him like it would be the last time he ever would.

Since, honestly, after this disaster—it very well could be.

Clay tried to embrace him back. “Justin, are you—what, what happened? You’re scaring me.”

Right. Justin might have been sobbing at that moment and completely bewildering his boyfriend. He probably needed to get a grip. But—Clay just felt so damn good. Why would Justin give that up just to explain—his worst nightmare, and everything he feared might happen, was coming true?

“Hey,” Clay assured, tightening his hug briefly, “you’re okay. It’s all right. You’re okay.”

“No,” Justin finally let out, “it’s not okay.” He drew back, and sniffled as he tried to rub his eyes. “It’s definitely not okay.”

“What’s wrong?”

Justin couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes. He couldn’t stand to see the realization dawn on him—the regret that he ever brought Justin Foley back into his life.

“He’s got her,” Justin uttered.

“Who’s got who?”

When Justin didn’t answer, Clay grasped his shoulders. “Hey, look at me—who’s got who?”

Justin obeyed, and the way Clay was looking at him—so concerned, so sympathetic, so _lovingly_ —he felt his heart break.

“Seth,” Justin let out softly. “He’s got her.”

“How do you know?”

“He was here. Earlier, right outside the track field.”

Justin explained how Seth had appeared, and how he met him at the shed behind the field—all while Clay’s abject horror became readily transparent, but he said nothing.

“He had one of her scarves,” Justin said, and it took everything he had not to start trembling again. “I—I didn’t get a close look at it, but it had stains on it. Dark stains, and…” He let out a deep breath—mainly to keep from sobbing again.

“Did he hurt you?” Clay demanded, but seemed to answer his own question as he peered at Justin’s neck, and gently prompted Justin to tilt his head for a better look.

“No,” Justin attempted as he saw the fury overtake Clay’s face, “not—nothing too badly.”

“What did he want?”

Feeling his restraint buckle again, Justin tried to swallow the sobs that nearly burst from his chest. “Ten grand,” he breathed, before another sob escaped him. “Tonight.”

Clay said nothing, but blew out a long exhale, which hit Justin almost as badly as Seth’s earlier kick to his stomach.

“When? Where?” Clay asked, and Justin told him what Seth had ordered him to do. With another sigh, Clay said, “You—didn’t take that much from him.”

Justin sniffled, and rubbed his nose. “He—really wasn’t in a negotiating mood,” he said beneath his breath.

His boyfriend appeared to take a moment to think. “Was the scarf the only thing he had?”

Sniffling again, Justin replied, “It was all he showed me.”

“He, he could’ve found it last night, at the house. If it was stained—even if it was blood—we don’t know it was hers. Could you tell if he was cut or bandaged anywhere?”

Justin shook his head. “No, he had a jacket on.” He gazed at Clay. “You think he’s lying?”

Clay bit his lip. “I—I don’t know what to think. I, I don’t want to believe he does have her kidnapped somewhere, but…”

When the boy trailed off, Justin went on, “He said if I didn’t bring him his money, I’d never see her again.” He scoffed. “I’d like to think he doesn’t actually mean he’s gonna kill her and dump her somewhere we’ll never find, but hey!” He gave a bitter laugh and threw up his hands. “Wishful thinking, right?”

“I know, I know,” Clay offered, “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be stupid, I’m just—I’m trying to think.”

“He said he knew we talked to the cops,” Justin added. “I don’t know how. I—I think he must have someone on the inside, with the cops.” He swallowed again in another attempt to bite back the tears. “I think it makes sense—every time he’s gone down, he’s _always_ gotten out, somehow. Somebody’s _got_ to be doing favors for him.”

Clay met his eyes. “Drugs—is that all he does? Do you know?”

“All I know is drugs, but beyond that, my guess is meth.” Justin hung his head. “He was always pretty paranoid and—I tried not to pry into his business.”

His boyfriend continued to look at him. “So you really think—he’ll do something to her, if we don’t come through.”

_We_. Justin swallowed again, stupidly grateful for that glimmer of stubborn, stubborn hope. He knew it was a question, even though Clay hadn’t spoken it as such.

“Yeah,” Justin uttered, “I do.” He looked away as he felt the rumbling of emotions nearly overtake him once more.

They sat before each other for several moments. Finally, Justin looked back up at Clay, and decided to press his luck.

“What are we gonna do?”

~ ~ ~

Justin found himself in a daze as he sat through lunch, and then his fourth period. _Go to class,_ Clay had instructed, _try to act normal_. _I’ve got to think._

To his credit, Clay did hug him before he left the locker room, right after the bell rang. _She’s gonna be okay,_ the boy had assured. _You’ll see her again._

He wished he could believe Clay. Honestly, Justin did, but—it was impossible not to question their chances. Ten fucking grand. Seth had probably just pulled a number out of his ass to make him sweat, but then again, he was a psycho. Who knew what he believed Justin could do?

As Justin sat at his desk, his leg trembling, it took everything in him not to text Clay every five seconds. Obviously, a plan was in development, but they didn’t even talk at all about how they would get the rest of the money. Justin had only taken a little over two grand from Seth, and had left it in his bag all this time because it was almost assuredly dirty money. He knew Clay had a small allowance in cash, but not how much.

Matt and Lainie were certainly out of the question; at least, he couldn’t imagine Clay going to them. What story could he and Clay come up with would they possibly believe? If they tried the truth, Lainie would most definitely _not_ play ball with Seth—Justin just couldn’t see her agreeing to his terms, or not going to the police. The law was her livelihood. How could she not believe in it?

Zach—no way. He had too much going on already. On top of his new football captain responsibilities, his friend didn’t appear to be having much luck getting the jocks to give up their old ways—if what Jess had told him in passing was true. But Justin believed her, and he wondered what she would think about him joining the team.

Fuck, if only that was his biggest problem right now. He’d give anything for that to be the case.

An uncomfortable thought had been lingering behind all of the possibilities like a shadow, and Justin hated it—because, in truth, it was the first thing he thought of. Like a reflex. A habit. And a truly desperate plan that just might be their only option.

Bryce.

His old friend _(brother)_ had certainly paid to get Justin out of trouble before—namely, with his mother. Bonding her out of jail. Ten grand might not even compare to the grand sum Bryce had put down for him all through the years.

Although Justin fucking despised the thought of crawling back to him, he absolutely loathed the chance that Bryce—might _actually_ still help him. If he, Justin, had asked. It was definitely Bryce’s style to throw money at his problems. _Rats like that just want cash. Pay them, and they’ll go away._

Fuck, how could Bryce still be so entrenched in his mind that he could still hear his voice inside his head—clear as day? How could Justin be so conditioned—so fucking trained—to want to turn to fucking Bryce Walker when he found himself again in deep shit? _Old habits, brother._

What were they gonna do? What were they possibly gonna do? Justin glanced at the clock on the side wall, not hearing a lick of the lecture in front of him. Time had stopped, basically, and yet it was still moving too fast.

Clay was gonna fucking hate him after this. If he didn’t already. Justin bit back tears, and forced himself to swallow.

_I’m so sorry, Clay. I’m so fucking sorry._

Why did he _always_ do this to the people he loved?


	10. Drugs and Contraband

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin and Caleb head on a mission.

_I think I’ve got something._   
_Meet me before your free period_

Justin saw the texts from Clay come through right as he sat down for fifth. Responding back with just an _okay,_ he felt a huge weight lift off of him, and it was enough for him not to barrage Clay with a string of texts. Sitting through class became slightly more tolerable, but he was up and out right when the bell rang to dismiss the period.

He saw Tony speaking with Clay at Clay’s locker as Justin approached. With a brief stab of panic, Justin met Tony’s brief glance of acknowledgement as he came to a stop before them.

“You remember who Caleb is, right?” Clay asked. “Tony’s boyfriend?”

Justin looked at Tony as he answered. Padilla stared back at him, unreadable. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Go and meet him now in the parking lot,” Clay went on. Justin looked back at the boy as he said, “You need to go to Seth’s place—where your mom had been staying before, right?—and search his place. We need more on him—leverage, dirt; whatever we can use to negotiate.”

“Clay,” Justin began, bewildered, “I—why? What’s the plan?”

His boyfriend tossed a book into his locker from his backpack. “We _might_ be able to get what he’s asking for. But we need options for dealing with him. Alex is gonna head to the police station later and work that angle, sort of like he did while Tyler was missing, and see if he can find anything—who this inside cop might be.”

“Seriously?” Justin remarked. “But, where is the money—?”

“Don’t worry about that right now,” Clay interrupted. “Go with Caleb, and try to focus on finding something. Seth’s operation, his lab, whatever. The police are surveilling the place, but it’s not a priority for them right now—they haven’t even filed for a warrant to search it—and only have one cop monitoring the place. You should be able to sneak around them.”

Justin almost asked, but then realized Alex must have provided that inside info. “You think I’ll really find something there?” he said instead.

“Well, how long were you there, before?”

“Almost a day.”

“So, you had already searched his place before to find that cash, right?”

“Yeah,” Justin confirmed.

“Can you can get in?” Clay pressed.

Justin thought for a second, then nodded. “Yeah, I can.” He glanced at Tony, who had been uncharacteristically quiet this whole time, and remained completely stoic. He and Clay must have already hashed things out.

“What are you gonna do?” Justin asked, looking back at Clay.

“We are gonna scope out the place he gave you,” Clay answered.

“We’re not gonna be back in time,” Justin said.

“I already talked to Schaffer and Daniels,” Clay responded. “I told them you weren’t feeling well, and I was taking you home.”

Chuckling, Justin managed a brief smile. Amazing to think that—after everything—Clay Jensen still hadn’t completely shed that good-boy image with the teachers.

Tony pulled his phone from his pocket. “Caleb’s here,” he said simply.

Clay gave Justin a firm look. “Go,” he said with a nod down the hall, “you might even find a clue to where he’s keeping her—if he has her, for real.”

Justin nodded, and proceeded down the hall for the parking lot. Honestly, he was impressed. Even—hopeful. He hadn’t expected Clay to think things through so quickly and so thoroughly. The question about the money still concerned him, but with the ways the boy had thought of to handle Seth—Justin started to feel like, yeah, they just might really get through this.

After heading through the side entrance and trotting down the steps, Justin came to the parking lot where he spotted a familiar figure waving his arm out of the window of a dark green sedan. As he got closer, Justin recognized him, definitively, from the Spring Fling. Way back when.

“Caleb?” Justin asked, coming to a stop by the driver-side window.

“That’s me,” he confirmed with a flat smile, then gestured towards the passenger seat. “Hop in.”

Justin got into the car and gave a nervous chuckle as he dropped his backpack between his legs and settled into his seat. “I’m sorry we—had to meet like this.”

Caleb nodded. “This is definitely one way to make an introduction.”

“What did they tell you?”

Giving a resigned look as he started the car and backed out of the parking spot, Caleb answered, “That we’re breaking into a drug dealer’s house in order to save your mom. Of course they would send the black man to do this.”

“Well, I—really appreciate you doing this,” Justin offered. “I know this is all fucking crazy, so I’m extremely grateful for your help.”

“You don’t need to lay it on me, Justin,” Caleb said as they drove out of the lot. “Tony explained to me what’s at stake.” He glanced at Justin. “I’m guessing—you know a way to get in? So this doesn’t have to become a breaking-and-entering?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure. There’s a window in the bathroom that’s broken—the handle, I mean. Seth didn’t fix shit around that place.”

“Lucky for us,” Caleb breathed. “We’ll just have to settle for trespassing, then.”

Justin guided him on where to go, and chose to simply stick to directions until they were close. He wasn’t sure if there was anything he could say to make Caleb feel any better about getting dragged into his mess.

As they were about halfway through the city, Caleb remarked, “Tony says you and Clay have had quite the—relationship, these past few months.”

Suppressing a smile, Justin replied, “Yeah, that’s one way to put it. If you’d asked me months ago where I thought I’d be right now, I wouldn’t even come close to this.”

“Yeah, I can—sorta relate.” Caleb glanced at him. “Tony came into my life almost like a whirlwind. I never thought I’d feel this way for anyone—and here I am, unable to say no to him.”

Justin laughed. “Yeah, I—I definitely know that feeling.”

Once they were back in the suburbs, Justin explained where they needed to go. As Caleb neared the street they were looking for, they spotted the police cruiser parked on the corner from Seth’s house. Caleb drove past the cruiser—both he and Justin playing it cool—and Justin could see the cop sitting inside of it appearing to be alert, but not particularly attentive.

After rounding the corner, Caleb remarked, “Tony said that they’ve been surveilling the house since last night. At least—according to our inside _informant.”_ Once they were out of view of the cruiser, he pulled over and looked towards Justin. “Hopefully, he didn’t have the same idea we’re having.”

Justin nodded. “I take it that’s the main reason why you’re here.”

Caleb smirked. “I may be a black belt, but it would still be nice to know if he might be armed.”

“He didn’t have any weapons in the house,” Justin replied. “Not any that I found when I was there.” _Not like the first time, anyway._

“All right, well, we’re gonna have to steer clear of the living room window because there’s a direct line to the cop car. Please tell me the bathroom is on the side we need it to be on.”

“It is.”

Caleb took a deep breath. “Wonderful.” He glanced out the window towards the house. “Well, just—walk like you live here and, hopefully, nobody’ll be suspicious.”

Justin looked at their path to the house. They’d need to walk along the street to keep out of sight of the cop but then cross over in between two backyards to get behind Seth’s house. No way not to be seen, but it was their only option.

“Okay,” Justin said after a moment, “let’s go.”

As they got out of the car, Justin took his backpack with him in hopes of making himself look more innocent and took the lead. They walked at a casual pace, and Justin quickly scanned for anyone watching before they stepped off of the sidewalk. With no one obviously in sight, they crossed over between the two yards just behind Seth’s house and Justin made straight for the bathroom window.

The window was large enough for them to step over. Although it was curtained off, Justin looked closely at the top of the windowsill. As he remembered, he could spot the absence of the handle that would’ve secured the window in place. Justin glanced at Caleb, then reached to lift it up. He saw his relief mirrored on Caleb’s expression as it slid up without a fuss.

Justin cautiously separated the curtains and gingerly stepped through the window. It smelled as stale and musty as he remembered, but stood absolutely still as he tried to listen for any noises of movement.

Silence.

He nodded towards Caleb, who proceeded to also step inside while Justin walked quietly out of the bathroom. With all the lights off, he made for the bedroom, saw it empty, then turned towards the kitchen—also empty. He looked out from there towards the living room to confirm, indeed, that the house was vacant.

Justin set his backpack down by the fridge.

“All right,” Caleb said, “what are we looking for?”

Justin pulled from his backpack the key he and Clay had found the previous night. “My nickname for Seth was ‘Meth-Seth’ but I don’t know for sure that’s what he was dealing—or the only thing.” He stood and showed the key to Caleb. “Clay and I found this last night at my mom’s place. We don’t know for sure if it’s Seth’s but it looks like it could be something he dropped in the struggle or—whatever happened.”

“The place was trashed, right?” Caleb asked.

“Yeah, it was.”

Caleb looked towards the living room. “Well, if we’re gonna avoid the window, you’ll need to stay low. I have a thing for judging people by what’s in their bathroom, so I’m gonna start there.”

Chuckling, Justin said, “Okay,” before turning his focus back to the kitchen. The staleness was present but not rank, as the dirty dishes piled in the sinks suggested some recent upkeep since they weren’t overflowing and appeared rinsed. Empty cartons of frozen food lay scattered about the little counter space available, and lived amongst a few boxes of crackers and Frosted Flakes along with a jumbo bag of jerky and a case of ramen.

Searching through the cabinets, Justin saw nothing new among the few dishes and glasses Seth owned. Definitely still not a hiding spot for anything. He then looked in the fridge to find it practically empty, save for two bottles of Coors Light, a jar of mayo, and a carton of milk—expired a week ago. The freezer was completely empty. If his mother could barely manage any real groceries, Seth was definitely—truly—hopeless.

Justin made for the master bedroom. “Anything?” he called.

“Nope,” Caleb responded, “just a poor, sorry, straight bachelor—just as I was expecting.”

Grinning for a moment, Justin entered the bedroom to find it in a similar state of disarray like the kitchen. Clothes chucked everywhere across the floor, unmade bed, and more empty beer bottles and empty food cartons on the dressers and bed stands. He quickly searched through the drawers and closet, reticent about really touching any of Seth’s clothes, and likewise found nothing of use—just as he had the first time. No cash, no weapons. No clues.

Justin met Caleb in the hallway, and he was really starting to wonder if Seth had really been back in the house recently—a thought that Caleb corrected.

“There looked like quite a bit of cleanup of blood from an injury in there, in the garbage,” he said. “You found blood at your mom’s place, right?”

“Yeah,” Justin confirmed. “So he _was_ here.” He looked towards the bedroom. “If he took any clothes with him, it wasn’t much.”

“It looks like he might have given himself stitches,” Caleb went on.

Making an appreciative grunt, Justin looked with Caleb back towards the living room. They eyed each other, then crouched low as they gradually approached the window overlooking the street. The living room was probably in the best shape out of all the rooms, and Justin was reminded that he had to give his mom _some_ credit—she was capable of tidying up the place, at least, when she’d been living there.

There was a mess of mail, random papers, and scraps of garbage both on the coffee and dining tables. Since they had to keep low to the ground, Caleb crept towards the coffee table while Justin took the dining table, which was better obscured from the window.

In the piles of junk, nothing stood out to Justin. There was an ashtray and discarded cigarette butts, random scraps of wires, some batteries, and a few dirty plastic cups and plates.

Justin looked towards Caleb and noticed him on his phone, scrolling. “You find something?” Justin asked.

“Maybe… There’s this random phone number written on the back of a seven-eleven receipt here underneath the couch.”

“Jesus,” Justin remarked, “I don’t think I would’ve spotted that—and I _have_ searched beneath and in that couch.”

“Well, it’s from yesterday, the receipt,” Caleb explained. “I’m guessing it could’ve just fallen out of his pocket as he came in. There’s a clear spot on the table here that appears deliberate—like a pattern—where I’m guessing he tends to dump his pocket-ables. Wallet, and phone, maybe?”

Justin laughed. “So that’s why you’re here—you’re the detective.”

He glanced at Justin and smiled. “I might be pondering that life down the road. My aunt is a cop.”

“Ah.”

Caleb tapped on his phone for a moment. “Okay,” he eventually said, “this number looks like it _could_ belong to a storage place not far from here.”

“You’re not sure?”

“Well, businesses tend to buy a range of telephone numbers, and this one falls into that range.” He brought the phone to his ear and looked towards Justin. “Only one way to find out.”

_Holy shit_ , Justin thought, _the balls on this guy_. He was definitely impressed. After what must have been two rings, Caleb said, “Sorry, wrong number,” and ended the call. When he saw Justin’s expression, he said, “Don’t worry, I blocked my ID,” and started creeping back towards Justin.

“Well?” Justin asked.

“It’s a public storage place.”

Justin laughed. “Shit, and here I thought you were gonna end up calling one of Seth’s druggie contacts.”

As they left the living room, Caleb said, “Well, that’s not _totally_ out of the question, still.”

They stood back up completely once they were clear of the living room window and Justin pulled out that mysterious key from his pocket.

“So this is our best lead, then?” Justin asked.

“Indeed, it looks to be,” Caleb confirmed.

~ ~ ~

Getting out of the house and back to the car was, luckily, as painless as it had been to get in. Caleb and Justin set off again and Justin used his phone to map out their route. As they drove, Caleb explained his theory.

“If that key was important and he lost it, I’m guessing Seth wrote down that number to call when he could get back to the house. Judging by the charging cables everywhere, his battery life must suck and hence the low-tech necessity of pen and paper. Storage companies are usually pretty hands-off about lock access, but they can generally help with cutting or removing a lock.”

“So they don’t keep keys?” Justin asked.

“Nope.”

“So you’re thinking he called them to get the lock cut?”

“Well, how often would you need to contact the business unwittingly stashing your illegal drugs or kidnap victim?”

Justin suppressed a laugh. “You don’t really think he’s keeping her at this place, do you?”

Caleb shrugged. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

As they crossed back into the city, Justin really tried to temper his expectations. No way would they be this lucky—again. Tyler was their one-off stroke of luck. Finding his mom in such a similar way, through such practically serendipitous means, would be _way_ too easy. But then again—just how smart could Seth really be? He might be a psycho, but he could also very well be a dumb-ass.

With little traffic, they reached the storage complex within minutes. As they neared the lot, Justin noticed the numbering of the units, and pulled the key from his pocket.

“One of these numbers has got to be the unit,” Justin said. The unit numbers only had three digits.

“And the other must be the gate code—I sure hope,” Caleb added.

Justin looked up to see them approaching a gate. “Shit, I didn’t realize security would be so tight here.”

“They have to be, if they actually wanna stay in business.”

They reached the gate and Caleb rolled down his window. “What’s the number?” he asked Justin.

“Three-four-nine-five.”

Caleb punched the PIN into the keypad. There was no audible response—but the gate arm lifted after a moment and they both exhaled sharply as they exchanged relieved glances.

When Caleb drove into the lot, he asked, “Where do we need to go?”

Turning the key over, Justin replied, “Looks like the four-hundreds.”

They’d come in near the two-hundred units, so they had a little ways to go before they reached the four-hundred units and parked. As the buildings all looked identical, the giant number ranges on the sides of the building were the only distinguishing features among the rows and rows of storage units.

After they stepped out of the car and entered the start of building 400, they started examining the gates to the lockers since they were only numbered in tiny print near the locks themselves.

“These numbers don’t make sense,” Justin complained.

“I think they zigzag, and wrap around—maybe…” Caleb offered.

As Justin looked at the first locker, and then looked at the one across from it instead of the one beside it, he realized Caleb was right.

“Four-twelve has got to be further in, then,” Justin said.

They found locker 412 just around the corner. He came to a stop before it and looked at Caleb.

“Shit,” Justin said. “Here we go.”

Caleb offered him a smile. “The fact that we don’t hear anyone screaming and shouting is—probably a good sign.”

“I sure hope so,” Justin sighed. He knelt down to key into the lock—and it fit perfectly. He turned the key, which released the latch after a bit of torque, and started to lift the door as Caleb reached to assist. Once the door was up past eye-level, they stepped inside to find some kind of light switch and Justin found it on his side before flipping it on.

Once the darkness was illuminated, Caleb remarked, “Yup—definitely illegal contraband, here.”

“Jesus,” Justin breathed.

It wasn’t a large unit, but it was packed almost to the brim. Lining the walls were stacks and stacks of various electronics, from phones and tablets to headphones and Playstations and speakers. Justin looked closer at some of the larger brown boxes that were plain but had shipping labels to the Walplex and guessed them to be TVs or monitors. Caleb opened some of the plain cardboard boxes along the floor as Justin began doing the same.

“And,” Caleb said, “definitely meth. You were right.”

Justin found flasks, burners, and other obvious gear for cooking stuffed within newspapers inside of the unmarked boxes. “Fuck,” was all Justin could manage.

When Caleb pulled out his phone and started taking pictures, Justin did the same. After they captured a few photos and stepped out of the unit, they shut the door and Justin locked the unit back up.

“Well, we certainly got leverage, all right,” Justin said. “What now?”

“We’re going back to my place,” Caleb replied. “Clay and Tony were gonna meet us there.”

“There had to have been way more than ten grand in there.”

Caleb shook his head. “Not if you can’t fence it. Phones and tablets are a lot easier to blacklist than you think. They usually have to go overseas, and that’s not an easy or cheap endeavor.”

After locking the unit back up, they started walking out of the building. Justin grinned at Caleb. “You wanna do this for a living, don’t you? Busting criminals.”

Caleb grinned back at him. “Maybe. Something like that.”

When they reached the car, Justin could feel himself being buoyed by a rush of adrenaline as they settled back into their seats and set out of the lot. They fucking had Seth, now. The asshole had a lot to lose—was he really gonna add murder on top of that, too?

Fuck Seth. They had this.


	11. Foils of Shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin and Clay get ready for the exchange.

They reached Caleb’s apartment after another drive back through the city, which took longer than the first one because of rush-hour traffic. While Caleb let the radio play a bit of jazz and acoustic rock for most of the commute, Justin had tried to think through what Clay might have come up with, even though he knew he’d find out soon enough. It helped ease the anxiety because, realistically, they were winging this—and they didn’t have a lot of time.

Justin followed Caleb up through the apartment building, and as they stepped inside, he was unsurprised by the clean, minimalistic kitchen and living room that welcomed them.

“Did you want anything?” Caleb asked as he set his keys down on the kitchen counter. “Water?”

“You don’t have anything stronger?” Justin quipped. When Caleb gave him a look, Justin grinned and said, “Water, please.”

After getting Justin a glass, Caleb opened his laptop on the counter and sat at one of the barstools before it. As he started typing, he asked, “Dawson Pier—does that place have any special significance to you?”

“No,” Justin replied, taking a seat at the sofa. “Are you looking it up?”

“Yeah.” Caleb clicked a few times on the trackpad. “Doesn’t look like there’s much anything there.”

As they waited, Justin pulled out his phone to look through the pictures he’d taken of the contraband. He began to wonder what his mom had been up to all this time, and how Seth had finally managed to find her—if he had, for real, anyway. Justin wasn’t sure why Clay had kept making a point to emphasize that, but Justin supposed, objectively, they didn’t really have solid—what was the phrase?— _proof of life_.

Justin felt a shiver pierce his core. He didn’t want to go there. He _couldn’t_.

There was a buzzing noise, and Caleb stood up to press a button on the intercom near the entrance. Clay and Tony came through the door several moments later.

As they all greeted one another, Justin felt supremely tempted to walk up and wrap his arms around Clay. He abstained, though, since Tony and Caleb merely sat on the stools by the kitchen counter as Clay took a seat beside Justin on the sofa. The boy squeezed Justin’s knee as he sat, which Justin settled for as he smiled back at Clay.

“Well,” Tony asked, “what did you guys find?”

“A bunch of stolen shit,” Justin answered.

When Clay and Tony looked at Justin, Caleb added, “Clay was right about that key. It went to a public storage locker out near the east side.”

“No kidnapped mom,” Justin went on, “but plenty of contraband, and a bunch of his meth cookware.” He offered his phone to Clay and started showing him the photos.

“Jesus,” Clay remarked.

“But no sign of where she might be?” Tony said to Caleb.

“Unfortunately not,” he replied.

“Well, at least this is something,” Clay offered, handing Justin’s phone back to him.

“What about you two?” Justin asked.

“There’s a whole lotta nothing there,” Clay answered, “which could be a good thing, honestly. It levels the playing field a bit.”

Justin eyed the boy. “What do you mean?”

Clay sat back against the sofa and gazed up at the ceiling. “What are the chances he shows up there tonight alone?” He looked back at Justin. “Do you know how many friends he might have? Or did anyone suspicious ever come by when he was staying at yours?”

“No,” Justin said, shaking his head. “Not while I was around, at least.”

Clay went on to say that Tony and Caleb were going to be there as backup when they went to meet Seth that night, and that Justin should drive the car back to the house and placate Matt and Lainie for a while as there was stuff he and Tony still needed to take care of.

Justin looked over at Caleb and Tony. “Wow, you—you guys are really doing a lot for me.”

“Well,” Caleb said, “I’m a sucker for a young queer person in trouble.” He thumbed towards Tony. “Look at this one.”

“Har har har,” Tony responded, suppressing a grin. He then looked towards Justin. “Besides, I can’t really break your legs if this douchebag beats me to it.”

As Justin laughed, Clay said, handing him the car key, “You should be getting back. Take advantage of the short window of normal before tonight.”

“Wait,” Justin insisted, “what about the money?”

Clay let out a sigh. “That’s what I gotta take care of.”

Justin looked towards Tony. “You guys aren’t gonna fucking rob a bank, are you?”

Caleb burst out laughing as Tony said, “Clay, will you just tell him? He’s gonna find out, anyway.”

“You’re going to Bryce, aren’t you?” Justin blurted towards Clay.

His boyfriend looked mortified. _“No!”_ he cried. “Are you serious? No—I asked Zach.”

“You _what?”_ Justin exclaimed.

“You’re not seriously telling me _Bryce_ is a better option, are you?” Clay countered.

Justin felt ill as embarrassment clamped down on his stomach and burned the back of his neck. “Dude, how could you go to Zach—after everything that’s happened with him?”

“He wants to help,” Clay insisted, “and he said he’ll be able to get us to at least half, or more.” He softened his expression. “How could you think of going to Bryce—after everything that’s happened?”

Looking towards the carpet, Justin gave a slight shrug. “He’s the only one with that kind of cash and—who’d have the least trouble getting it.” He looked up at Clay. “Zach’s mom is—well, she’s nothing like Bryce’s parents. And that’s a good thing. Well, maybe not for us, but still.”

“We’re not going to Bryce,” Clay said firmly. “We have enough. Alex came through with a name, and his dad is looking into it.”

Justin let out a sigh. “I know—murder is a long way from dealing, but—is this a gamble we really wanna take? If Zach can’t get us enough?”

“I think we’re gonna have to at this point,” Tony interjected.

Clay took Justin’s hand. “Do you trust me?” he asked.

“Of course,” Justin uttered.

“Good, because I don’t know if I really trust myself. But Bryce is a last, _last_ resort—and I don’t think we’re there at this point. Seth wants cash—and if he’s gonna turn to a bunch of teenagers for that kind of money, he should be happy to get even the money you took from him initially.”

That prickling in Justin’s stomach spiked. “And,” he began, “I’m guessing you don’t think your folks… If they knew the truth…”

Clay squeezed his hand. “I don’t want to risk that right now. Like you said—let’s not rock the boat more than we have to, all right?”

~ ~ ~

Justin thanked Caleb again for his help before leaving, then set off downstairs to get into Clay’s Prius. He’d assured his boyfriend that he’d be able to keep it cool with Lainie and Matt at dinner, and that he’d be able to keep straight their cover story for the evening. Movie showing and extra credit opportunity at the Crestmont. _Extra credit_ , _the irony…_

After getting into the driver’s seat, Justin turned on the car and gripped the steering wheel as he settled his nerves. He then backed out of the space and started to drive.

As he pulled onto the city streets, he realized it had been pretty gloomy for most of the day. It looked like it might rain, soon. _Great,_ exactly what they’d need for that night.

Justin couldn’t help feeling guilty for Zach getting pulled into this mess, and more so, ashamed he hadn’t thought to approach his friend himself. Not that he could blame Clay, of course, since Justin had been a complete mess to begin with. But—Zach had mostly kinda, sorta, remained on the outside of that bubble of drama that circled his home life and his—personal problems. He knew about them, of course, but Zach had always been the one Justin had turned to when he needed to escape those problems, and to feel like a normal kid.

And because, well, Bryce had usually inserted himself in that bubble, anyway. Looking back, Justin wondered if it had all been just part of his machinations to keep Justin under this thumb.

Bryce had always expected those favors to be paid back in some way, too. Even though Zach wasn’t anything like Bryce, Justin couldn’t help but wonder how he’d ever pay his friend back for his help.

Maybe—this was why Justin had been such a crappy friend to Zach. He might have had his own problems, but he wasn’t there for Zach when his dad died. The worse Justin’s personal issues got, the more Bryce got involved, and the more Justin pulled away from those who helped him feel normal. The sad truth was—he didn’t really know how to comfort somebody in grief, or pain.

Because, growing up, no one had ever really done it for him.

Justin reached the suburbs, and soon pulled into the Jensens’ driveway. He was so close to having a normal life—or, really, the most normal he’d ever had. As he turned off the car and started for the front door, he solidified his resolve—no one like Seth _the asshole_ was gonna take that away from him.

When he stepped inside, Justin found Matt and Lainie in the kitchen and already settled at the table.

“Oh!” Lainie called, standing. “Clay made it sound like you wouldn’t be back until much later!”

Justin tried not to laugh as he walked to the kitchen. Like he’d really be upset if they didn’t have dinner ready for him. “No, Clay is gonna be back later,” he said as he entered the kitchen and Lainie was pulling another plate from the cupboard. “He and Tony are still working on some project Mr. Ladecki dropped on them this morning.”

“Well, we’re glad to see you,” Lainie said. “Go wash up—the meatloaf’s still plenty warm.”

Making for the stairwell, Justin did as he was told, dropping his book bag in Clay’s room before heading to the bathroom. Aside from Monday, dinner as a family had been sporadic recently, both with Lainie’s caseload and Matt’s end-of-semester duties. Justin and Clay would often just eat in their room, or sometimes in front of the TV in the den, if the Jensens wouldn’t be home until late.

After Justin made it back downstairs, he sat at the table where a hearty portion of meatloaf, bread, and salad was waiting for him. Unfortunately, his appetite had not returned, having been absent most of the day, but he forced himself to dig in, regardless. _Act normal._ The standing imperative from Clay.

“So what movie are you two seeing tonight?” Lainie asked after Matt had finished talking about a new ordinance on campus.

Justin had rehearsed this very conversation with Clay. “Well, we—have a choice, but I think we’re going to see this, um, space movie? Two-thousand Odysseys, I think…”

Matt was very deliberately trying not to laugh as he corrected, _“Two-Thousand-and-One: A Space Odyssey_. A veritable pinnacle of a classic, really.”

Justin grinned. “Clay said you’d say that.”

“Well, it’s true!” Matt insisted, his eyes flaring. “It’s based on Clarke’s short stories. Don’t be fooled—the novelization came out _after_ the film. It’s not based on the book.”

“Clay said they were written together.”

Matt grinned. “True. But, the assumption is usually—that the book is better than the film. Not so, in this case.” He gave a slight shrug. “Admittedly—it _is_ an acquired taste.”

“He said it was long, too,” Justin added.

As Clay had predicted, that seemed to be enough to distract Matt and Lainie for most of the meal. When they finished, Justin helped them clean up, even though Lainie insisted he didn’t have to, before heading back up to Clay’s room to wait for the boy. His nerves unraveling again, Justin found himself unable to do anything except lie back on the couch and stare at the ceiling. It was that, or pace around the room in circles.

Finally, as dusk started to fall, Justin heard the front door open. He stepped to listen through the door, and heard mumblings of conversation between Clay and his mom downstairs. Shortly afterwards, the boy opened the door with a plate of meatloaf and a glass of water in his hands, then made for the desk after greeting Justin with a simple _hey._

“Hey,” Justin echoed, sitting back at the couch. He noticed the slight dampness in Clay’s hair and looked out the window. “Is it raining?”

“No,” Clay responded, sitting down, “I just took a quick shower, that’s all.”

“Where?”

“Caleb’s gym.” Clay forked a huge bite of meatloaf into his mouth, clearly ravenous.

Justin made a face. “Why? I thought you were meeting Zach.”

“I did,” the boy responded, his mouth full, “this was after.”

Since Clay was obviously hungry, Justin let him eat in peace for a few moments. Eventually, he pressed, “Why were you at Caleb’s gym?”

Clay simply continued chewing for a moment. “Because—Tony and I needed to practice. Well, mainly, me. _I_ needed to practice.”

Justin narrowed his eyes at the boy. He then thought back to the previous night—and it finally clicked.

“Clay, you’re not thinking of, of taking Seth on—like _that_ , are you?”

The boy looked up at Justin. “No, of course not. Only—if he tries anything.”

Justin gazed back at him. “What are you thinking—exactly?”

“I’m just trying to be prepared,” Clay said, then took another bite of meatloaf.

His boyfriend seemed frazzled enough, so Justin let him be as he finished eating. Once he had, Clay stood up and pulled Justin’s bag from beneath the bed. “There’s a black shoebox in the closet next to the guitar case,” the boy said. “Can you grab it?”

As Justin obeyed, Clay added, unzipping Justin’s gym bag, “I take it the money’s still in here, right?”

“Yeah,” Justin confirmed, grabbing the shoebox from the closet and bringing it to the coffee table. As Clay retrieved the cash from Justin’s bag, Justin pulled the lid off the shoebox and found thick folded wads of fives, tens, and twenties mixed among a bunch of old iPods and earbuds.

“Help me count it,” Clay said, and Justin pulled the bills from the box while the boy took out one last load of money from his backpack to consolidate onto the table.

After doing so, Justin said, “You’ve got almost nineteen hundred in here.”

Clay exhaled deeply. “Well, that brings us to almost sixty-five hundred, then.”

Justin let his shoulders drop as he felt thoroughly deflated. “Is this, like, your life savings?”

“No, of course not,” Clay said, shaking his head. “Just—money from the Crestmont I decided to cash out instead of depositing. My dad always said I should keep some cash on hand as a best practice.”

After the boy gathered the money, he went to the closet to pull out an old backpack and began dropping the cash into it.

“You gonna give Seth the bag, too?” Justin remarked, his heart sinking further.

“If I have to.”

Justin stood. “Use mine, instead.”

“No,” Clay said simply, “it’s fine.”

As Justin watched the boy fill the backpack, the dread in his gut spiked throughout his core. Justin was seeing—quite literally, right before him—how much this was costing them.

Not to mention the emotional toll.

And more.

When Clay finished, he added, zipping up the bag, “Don’t forget your book bag, too. To play the part, remember.”

He looked at Justin. “Are you ready?”

Swallowing, and forcing a nod, Justin replied, “Yes.”

Clay stepped towards Justin—and hugged him tightly. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Justin nodded into the boy’s shoulder. As he embraced Clay in return, he breathed, “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t,” Clay insisted, and Justin felt the boy run his fingers through his hair. “Anything, remember?”

Nodding again, Justin said with a sniffle, “I know.”

They parted, and got everything they needed before stepping outside of the room. As they walked down the stairwell, Lainie called from the dining room, a stack of papers and her laptop before her, “Have fun tonight!”

Justin looked towards her, but she didn’t look up from her work. Clay responded, “We’ll try! No promises, though,” as they made for the door. When he reached for the doorknob, Clay looked at Justin, and he nodded at the boy before he opened the door.

It was go time. For real this time.

As real as it was ever fucking going to get.


	12. 412

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin and the others meet Seth.

Clay stopped at Caleb’s place along the way. Once there, he, Caleb, Justin, and Tony piled into Tony’s Mustang to consolidate and drive the rest of the way to the pier. Clay sat in the front, with Justin and Caleb in the back. Clay also held onto the backpack, letting it sit between his legs.

It started raining as they drove. Not heavily, but still enough to be a nuisance. They said little during the drive, and the relative quiet left the air in the car tense. Only Tony’s music was there to break the silence as the radio hummed in the background. _Oh, Miss Believer…_

When they neared the pier, Tony parked along the embankment and turned off the headlights. The clock on the car dash read 8:54pm.

“What’s the plan?” Justin asked, leaning forward.

Clay glanced back towards him. “We wait. If he shows up alone—Tony and I will go up there. Just us. If he’s not, well—we’ll all go.”

“Clay,” Justin snapped, “there’s no fucking way I’m letting you go up there without me…”

The boy eyed him, serious. “Please, Justin—let me and Tony do this.”

“Clay—” Justin insisted.

“Stop arguing,” Tony interrupted, “we don’t know what’s what, yet.”

Justin sat back, and tried not to huff. He wasn’t scared of Seth. He wasn’t. And fucking hell if he was gonna let him hurt Clay…

“If he’s alone,” Caleb added, “we probably don’t want to look like we’re trying to intimidate him.”

“We fucking should,” Justin spat. “The least he deserves.”

“We can’t show our hand all at once,” Clay said.

With only the sound of the rain pattering on the car roof, they sat. Soon, it was 9:00pm. 9:01. 9:04. 9:08.

9:15pm.

“He’s late,” Tony remarked.

“I’m guessing drug dealers aren’t known for their punctuality,” Clay said.

“He might be scoping out the area,” Caleb offered, “trying to see if we kept to the deal.”

_He might not even fucking show,_ Justin wanted to say—but kept silent when he spotted a figure manifest out of the darkness along the dock.

“He’s there,” Justin said.

They all watched in silence for a few moments.

“And—it looks like he’s alone,” Tony confirmed, cutting the engine completely.

“Justin,” Clay said firmly, looking towards him, “please, stay in the car.”

Frowning, he met the boy’s gaze. “Okay,” Justin let out, “fine. I’ll stay.”

“Thank you,” Clay uttered, and he and Tony opened their doors before stepping out of the car.

Caleb patted Justin’s shoulder as they watched Clay and Tony walk towards the docks. Justin’s momentary panic of Seth not showing merely stifled his real fear over the arrival of this moment. It felt wrong—really wrong—him not going up there with them, but Justin tried to reason with the shame, telling himself that he might just get in the way of whatever contingency Clay and Tony had come up with if Seth tried something. Hell, Justin really hadn’t proven himself, so far. The boy could obviously more easily focus if Justin was out of immediate harm’s way.

Fretting over Seth hurting them wasn’t gonna do them any favors. He needed to trust Clay right now. Tony clearly did. So if Justin did, too—he should act like it. _So fucking do it._

They were parked far enough to be mostly out of sight, and with no hope of hearing what was going on. Despite the rain, there was enough moonlight to illuminate the frown on Seth’s face as he saw Clay and Tony approach. The man stepped forward, and crossed his arms.

“You can’t read lips, can you?” Justin asked, his heart rate picking up.

“No,” Caleb replied, “but he does not look pleased.”

_Fuck._ Seth said something to them, but Clay looked unperturbed while he and Tony stopped beside each other in front of Seth.

They spoke for another moment, before Justin could clearly make out Seth saying, _Where’s my fucking money?_

Clay said something else, which made Seth appear to scoff, then laugh as he threw up his hands.

“He’s asking for proof she’s okay,” Caleb said. “That was his general plan before handing anything over.”

Seth said a few more things before indicating the backpack on Clay’s shoulder. Clay shook his head, and Justin felt his stomach twist as his heart really began beating in his ears.

“He’s telling him what we know, isn’t he?” Justin said.

“Yup, I think so,” Caleb agreed.

When Clay finished, Seth took a moment, then seemed to laugh to himself.

He then burst towards Clay menacingly—all while Justin’s panic spiked and he reached for the door. Caleb stopped him, though, and held him back in the seat. To Clay’s credit, he didn’t flinch, while Tony stepped forward to nearly intervene, too. Clay merely stared up at Seth, who slowly began to smile as he loomed over the boy.

Justin could make out Clay saying, _I think you should back away,_ or something to that effect. Seth laughed, and did so, seemingly impressed.

“And I thought _my_ boyfriend had balls of steel,” Caleb uttered. Justin might’ve laughed, but he couldn’t—not with the terror still nearly strangling him.

Seth took another step back and then turned around for a moment before looking back at Clay and Tony. He spread his arms wide and spoke again, gesturing out towards the ocean before crossing his arms again as he delivered whatever final ultimatum he was giving.

When Seth finished speaking, Clay and Tony looked at each other for a moment. Clay then looked back at Seth, and it seemed like the boy was giving a counteroffer or final stipulations. When Seth nodded, and shrugged, seemingly in agreement, Clay took off the backpack and dropped it on the ground before Seth.

Seth eyed the pack for a moment, then knelt down to unzip it. Even from a distance, the man looked further impressed. He rifled through the bag briefly, then zipped it back up before standing with it and saying something else to Clay, and glancing down at his own watch-less wrist.

Clay and Tony gave each other a grave look before sprinting from the dock and started running back towards the car. Justin felt the adrenaline spike within him as they reached the doors and practically crashed back inside.

“What?” Justin demanded. “What?”

“We’ve got an address,” Clay began.

“All the way on the other side of town,” Tony finished, starting the car and whirring it back away from the embankment. The three of them braced against their seats as Tony shot out from the pier.

“Babe, you can’t speed all the way there!” Caleb objected.

“Well, we still gotta be fast!” Tony countered.

“Do we call the cops?” Justin exclaimed.

“Too many questions if we do,” Tony said.

“Just drive!” Clay insisted.

Tony soon pulled onto the highway, so luckily, speed wasn’t a problem.

“But,” Justin went on, “what? Is she like—bleeding out, or what the fuck?”

“He didn’t say,” Clay responded. “Only that we might make it in time if we left right away.”

“Fuck,” Justin let out. _Fucking asshole._

No one was in the mood to say much else as Tony zoomed down the freeway, leaving Justin only able to free-fall through all the horrible possibilities in his mind. _No_ , he thought to himself, biting on his fist as he forced his attention out towards the window, _don’t go there_. Still too soon to know anything, yet, for sure.

Clay had his phone out, clearly navigating. “The next exit,” he remarked.

“Got it,” Tony acknowledged.

With barely any traffic, and only the rain to slow them down, they pulled off the highway at the next exit in no time—although it still felt like forever to Justin. They seemed to be coming to an industrial part of the city not unlike the storage lot from earlier in the day.

As Clay guided Tony the rest of the way, they came upon a run-down string of buildings that Justin saw, upon closer inspection, were apartments. Or used to be. When Tony came to a stop before one of those buildings—with no visible working lights anywhere, its paint peeling and chipping, and a few of the windows on the lower level cracked or broken—Justin figured the whole thing had to be a derelict.

After Tony shut off the engine, they stepped out of the car and into the rain, which had only gotten heavier.

“Is this really it?” Tony asked Clay.

“He did say the last building on the block, didn’t he?” the boy asked back.

“I take it he didn’t give an apartment number,” Caleb said.

Justin shot towards the first door he could see. “Guys, let’s go!” he shouted.

They followed him, and as Justin got closer, he saw the door was closed, but not completely shut. As he pulled it open, it creaked loudly with the effort; it definitely looked more like a back exit than anything. He and the others pulled out their phones to use as flashlights as they went inside, and without any horrible smells—just generally old and dank air—they stepped forward cautiously.

“I know it might be more efficient,” Caleb whispered as they proceeded down the hallway, “but let’s not do the horror films thing and split up, okay?”

“A-fucking-men,” Caleb agreed.

“What was the deal?” Justin asked.

“He said he had two addresses,” Clay replied. “If he liked the number we had for him—he’d give us the right address.”

Justin huffed. “So he’s fucking with us.”

“He said he didn’t think we’d come through at all with anything,” Clay added.

The wooden floors were covered in dirt and dust, and the warped planks creaked with echoes off the bare walls as they walked. They came to a junction and another door, which Justin opened, and it looked like it led to the actual apartments. After passing what looked like a laundry area, the room devoid of any machines save for the exposed pipes and more dust, they came to a stairwell.

“Fine, up we go,” Justin uttered.

The steps creaked as they went up. As they came to the first floor, Justin realized they had at least five floors to go through—if they were going to search every floor.

“We’re gonna be here all night if we don’t split up,” Justin said.

They all glanced at each other, none of them obviously keen on searching through the dark and creepy abandoned apartment building alone. Caleb rolled his eyes and started up the stairs.

“Fine,” he sighed, “I’ll be sure to scream the loudest when I get grabbed by something.”

“Let’s just take the floors in pairs,” Clay offered, and Tony followed Caleb up the stairwell.

The boy followed Justin down the hall on the first floor. He said he’d take the left, so Justin took the right side. It looked like there were at least four apartments on each hall, and the first two they came across were unlocked. After a perfunctory look through the first two, which were completely bare save for a set of flattened pieces of cardboard that Justin found in the living room, he realized—this building was a squatter’s paradise.

Indeed, a place like this would’ve saved Justin a lot of hassle all those months ago.

As Justin started searching the next apartment, he wondered, could there be anyone in the building? If there were, could they have heard his mom struggling for help? Or was she just not in a state to struggle at all?

_Fuck that_ , he had to keep searching. Just keep looking. _Stop what-if-ing._

Justin searched the next apartment. Again, its door was unlocked, and it was completely empty. It all begged the question—could someone have stumbled upon her, and helped her escape? Or get help? Did Seth actually take any steps to cover his tracks? Or was this all just a wild fucking goose chase?

He came to the junction in the floor that looked to lead to another hall of apartments. Clay met him there, and Justin took to the right as Clay went left. They walked down to the ends, then met back at the middle.

“There are stairs at the end,” Clay remarked.

“Same on this side,” Justin said.

So the building was like a T, with egress at the end of each leg. That left six more apartments for them to search.

Justin came to his first locked door. _Shit._ He started banging on it without really thinking, which drew Clay back out into the hall.

“Did you find something?”

“It’s locked,” Justin said simply.

“Come back to it,” Clay said, “I had two locked ones, too.”

Justin was ready to argue when his phone buzzed and a text popped up on the screen. Clay’s did the same right after.

Tony  
 _412_

They glanced at each other briefly before sprinting for the end of the hall. They rushed up the stairwell, their footsteps echoing through the corridor as they made for the fourth floor. Justin saw the open door clearly down the hall as the only sources of light on the whole floor danced out from it.

When he came to a stop inside the apartment, Justin saw Caleb standing before a toppled chair and broken table in the living room—the only furnishings in the room.

“Tony’s in the bedroom,” Caleb said.

Sprinting past the kitchen and bathroom, Justin came to a stop inside the only other room in the apartment. Tony was holding an envelope in his hand, and he was standing before a bed frame with no mattress, a broken dresser—and shining his light at a knotted pile of rope on the floor. When Justin stepped in for a closer look, he found what looked to be spots and drips of stains on the carpet as he shined his phone light along the floor.

Tony handed the note to Justin. “This was the first apartment we found that wasn’t locked but still had stuff left behind in it. And—this.”

Clay came up behind him, and Justin glanced at him before reluctantly accepting the note from Tony. He swallowed, recognizing the handwriting immediately. It was rushed and sloppy, and there was a bit of dark red staining the corner of the opened, empty envelope, but there was no mistaking who had written it. His mother’s way of joining sharp curves with wavy lines always stood out to him his whole life.

_Justin baby_   
_I’m so sorry I_   
_couldn’t always_   
_protect you_   
_I promise I’ll_   
_make this_   
_up to you_   
_Don’t worry about_   
_me, I’ll be fine_   
_Take care of_   
_yourself_

Justin flipped it over because the writing had reached the bottom of the envelope, but it only had the plastic windows on the front for the addresses. So it was unsigned. Not that it needed to be.

He stared at the words again for a moment before glancing towards the dresser, its drawers already left open in a frantic search for whatever was inside of them. He spotted the discarded pen on the floor, which spoke to the words fading quickly with each line. She also must’ve not known what she really wanted to say, as the words got smaller and smaller along the way.

“What does it say?” Clay said gently.

Sniffling, Justin shrugged. “She’s fine, of course. But she’s gone, again. _She’s_ _gone.”_

It all came at once, socking him right in the gut and forcing a sob from him. Clay caught him as Justin burst into tears.

Fucking hell, he didn’t know why it hurt. He didn’t know why he was crying. But it did, and he was. _Fucking hell._

Justin didn’t know why he ever thought things would ever turn out differently from exactly as they were right now.

He should have known—his mother would always let him down.


	13. The Man With The Jangling Keys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin relives a traumatic memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I really split off this part into a shorter chapter to warn what is to come. If you've seen season 3, you likely already know what's ahead, but regardless, be aware of potentially disturbing imagery in this and the next chapter.

Clay led Justin out of the building and back into the car. Tony and Caleb stayed behind to look for hints of anything else to be found, but Justin knew, already, that his mother was long gone. If anything, he tried to find comfort in that she was a survivor—above all else.

When Clay opened the door for Justin, Justin got into the back seat, and slid down to make room for the boy. It had stopped raining by then, so Clay settled into the back with him without trying to shut the door.

He gazed at Justin. “Dumb question,” the boy began, “but—are you okay?”

Justin sat back against the seat, keeping his gaze mostly towards the window. “Yeah, I’m okay.” He hung his head. “I’m sorry we all got fucking scammed,” Justin went on.

“That’s not how I see it.”

Laughing bitterly, Justin said, “Come on, you’re smarter than that. We didn’t need to fucking pay Seth off. He didn’t expect us to come through. She would’ve gotten away, and he would’ve peace’d the fuck outta here. I was too fucking stupid to see that.”

Clay took his hand. “No—Justin, don’t be so hard on yourself. We couldn’t know that for sure. He got his money back—almost three times over—and he said he wasn’t coming back. He would leave us alone for good.”

“His word is no better than he is,” Justin scoffed. “Dirt.”

“Well, he has no reason to bother us anymore—for sure, now.”

Tony and Caleb emerged from the building soon afterwards. After they settled into the car, Clay asked them, “Did you find anything else?”

“I don’t think she was hiding out there,” Caleb answered. “Everything there was decrepit and untouched, except for what we found in the bedroom.”

“For however long he had her tied up,” Tony added, “she might’ve been out for most of it. He’d done a shitty job of tying her up.”

Clay looked back at Justin. “Do you think she’d go for help? Go to the police?”

“She fucking hates cops,” Justin replied. “Always has.”

“And we don’t really have anything to offer the police now, either,” Caleb added. “Without solid evidence of extortion or kidnapping, what we’re left with is trespassing, withholding of evidence, and possibly aiding and abetting.”

Justin began rubbing his face. He was utterly exhausted. “I’m so fucking sorry for all this,” he sighed. “This day just needs to fucking _end…_ ”

Tony started the car. “Let’s go home,” he said.

As they pulled off of the pier, and crossed back onto the highway, a thought stuck in his mind like a splinter. ‘ _I couldn’t always protect you.’_

_The fuck?_

When the tape Tony had in the stereo ran out, he let the silence persist with only the hum of the rushing air and spinning tires to fill the void. It had been a long, long time since Justin had ever felt this tired. This exhausted. This spent.

_Did she know?_

_Did she fucking_ know?

Clay reached across for Justin’s hand. He let the boy hold his hand, but Justin couldn’t bear to meet his eyes.

They got back to Caleb’s place, where Clay and Justin set off together on their own. Clay thanked Caleb and Tony for their help before they left, and along the way back to the house, it started raining again. Once they were back in their driveway, it was just after midnight.

_Did she fucking know?_

Clay led Justin back inside. Mercifully, it was dark. Lainie or Matt hadn’t waited up for them. Justin followed the boy upstairs, and once back in Clay’s room, Justin made straight for the couch. He sat, burying his face in his hands.

“I’m sorry,” Justin breathed.

Clay sat beside him, wrapping his arms around Justin, and rested his forehead against Justin’s temple. For a while, the boy said nothing, and simply held him.

“Come on,” Clay eventually said, “I’ll draw you a bath.”

“No,” Justin croaked, “I—I just want to sleep. I’m so fucking tired.”

After a moment, Clay let go of him and stood up. He slipped off his hoodie, tossing it on the couch, then took Justin’s arm.

“Come on,” his boyfriend said, prompting him towards the bed.

Justin didn’t deserve it, but he followed Clay anyway. Too weak to resist, he fell into the boy’s arms as they settled atop the covers—not unlike that night after the dance. When he felt Clay’s arm around him, and his warmth envelop him, Justin’s throat began to spasm, and he couldn’t stop himself from crying into Clay’s shoulder. Justin let the boy’s T-shirt soak up his tears.

“I’m so sorry, Clay. I’m so sorry.”

His boyfriend quietly began shushing him, but it was no use. Justin was inconsolable.

“I’ll get a fucking job,” Justin wept, “I’ll, I’ll pay you back. Everything. You and Zach…”

“No, Justin,” Clay insisted, “you do not need to do that.”

“I do, I do. I fucking have to. I will.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I—I have to do something. This was my fucking mess—”

“And I did what family does,” Clay interrupted, “I helped you. I took care of you. Zach, Tony, Alex, Caleb—we all took care of you. Because we love you. And we’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.”

Justin cried harder, clutching Clay even tighter as he fought to contain himself.

_DID SHE FUCKING_ KNOW?

Clay continued to shush him, and held him, and tried to gently rock him a little. Gradually, exhaustion sunk in completely, and Justin could no longer cry, even though he felt completely broken. Useless. A burden. A loser. _No son of mine!_

“Hey,” Clay gently coaxed, “let’s get out of those wet clothes and snuggle properly for the night.”

Justin obeyed, sliding off the bed as the boy released him. He trod towards the closet to slip off his shoes, jeans, and shirt before pulling another T-shirt over himself. Clay likewise swapped into shorts and led Justin back to the bed and beneath the covers before nestling tightly against Justin.

“You’re everything,” the boy uttered, “everything to me. I love you.”

Shutting his eyes, Justin tried to lose himself in Clay’s sweet, tender embrace.

_Dear God_ , why wasn’t it working?

Why did he still feel like nothing?

~ ~ ~

Heavy footsteps creak outside the door, just down the hallway. They creak through the floor to rattle the bed, where Justin is utterly powerless. Frozen.

Is he coming?

He always comes.

_Please, please. Stay away._

The footsteps approach, growing louder, with the tinkling of metal. Keys on a large key ring. So many keys.

Then they stop, and the keys jingle.

He’s right outside of the door.

Justin sees all but blackness, all but shadows around the room. The doorknob twists, clicking open.

His eyes are shut but Justin sees the sword of light that pierces the bed. He doesn’t breathe, he can’t breathe, but he’s desperate to stay still. To pretend to be asleep.

It never stops him.

Those footsteps tread through the shadows. Those keys shatter the light. Step, step. The closer he gets.

The keys jingle, shattering the silence.

Those boots grind it to dust.

He’s on the bed. Justin feels the earth sinking, dragging him towards that jingling sinkhole.

He touches Justin’s arm with that gigantic, coarse, bloated hand. He spreads his fingers across Justin’s back—fingers embedded with microscopic razors that shred through his shirt.

_Get the fuck off me. Get off me!_

He wraps his other hand around Justin’s leg, likewise shredding through his pajamas. He clamps his fingers around Justin’s ankle, pulling his leg straight.

_Get_ the fuck _off me!_

His first hand reaps across Justin’s back, drawing lower, and lower, until it’s under Justin’s shirt, drawing blood.

_Get off me! GET OFF ME!_

His other hand leaps up to crash beneath Justin’s belly, then slowly clamps down across Justin’s entire chest. Justin feels his skin singe as his clothes begin to burn away.

_Get—fucking—off—of—ME!_

His hands start to crawl lower, and lower—again—until Justin feels those fingers cut beneath his underwear

_“GET THE FUCK OFF ME!”_

Justin didn’t realize it was his voice that had thundered throughout the room until he felt a hand clutching his arm and he flung himself off the bed. _Stop! No more!_

“Justin!”

His vision gradually returned, and he found himself staring at Clay in the bed with the covers thrown off completely onto the floor. The boy was gaping at him—confusion and terror and sorrow twisting his expression.

Justin then realized he was standing. And he was shaking.

And he was fucking _hard._

_What—the fucking—SHIT?_

Justin burst out with a sob, and Clay slowly crept across the bed towards him, his hands raised.

“Justin, it’s me,” the boy said, “it’s Clay. It’s me—you’re okay. You’re okay. I promise you.”

Also trembling, Clay reached up to grab Justin’s shoulders.

“No,” Justin wept, and the boy immediately lowered his hands.

“Okay, all right,” Clay assured. “It’s all alright.”

_No,_ he couldn’t be close to Clay right now. He couldn’t reveal to the boy just how truly fucking _awful_ he, _Justin_ , was. _Sick_ and _broken_ and—

_Perverted._

Clay waved his hand towards the bed. “Hey, take the bed, Justin,” he insisted. “Take the bed. I’ll take the couch. It’s okay. I promise you—it’s okay.”

Justin stared at the bed. Taking a step towards it, he took a deep breath, then slowly lowered himself back onto the mattress. Clay grabbed the covers off the floor, and gently—gradually—brought them back up over Justin.

“Shut your eyes, breathe,” Clay instructed softly, “and go back to sleep. Can you do that?”

Reluctantly, Justin nodded, and slowly turned onto his side away from Clay while clutching the covers around beneath his chin into a ball.

He couldn’t take seeing Clay at that moment, being so near him, or watching his boyfriend settle into the couch across the room. A bomb had gone off inside of Justin. He was completely destroyed.

Justin thought he was okay. He thought he had mostly kept himself together, in spite of it all.

Now, he had no idea how he’d come back from this.


	14. Admission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin tells his story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we are here. If you've seen season 3, then this shouldn't be a surprise. Please mind the following chapter for graphic mentions of past sexual abuse of a child, and mentions of sex work with elements of non-consent.

“Justin.”

He awoke to his name, inhaling deeply. Right away, every single muscle in his body was shouting, _no_. This wasn’t like when he was detoxing. Somehow, it was worse.

Slowly, Justin managed to open his eyes. He was on his back, and looked to see Clay standing before him, gazing down at him.

“Hey,” the boy said gently.

Justin groaned, and tried to stretch a little beneath the covers. “Hey,” he echoed.

“Are you okay?”

Inhaling deeply once more, Justin let out a long exhale. “Yeah, I’m—I’m okay. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to lose my shit.”

Clay gingerly sat on the edge of the bed. “It’s okay, really. How are you feeling?”

Justin sighed. “I’m okay, but,” he let out a groan, “I don’t think I can handle anything, right now. I think—I really think I gotta stay home, today.”

Carefully, the boy laid his hand beside Justin, who was still almost completely under the covers. Justin slid his arm from beneath the comforter, then reached to take his boyfriend’s hand.

“What time is it?” Justin asked.

“About the time you’re usually up,” Clay replied with a slight smile, squeezing his hand. When Justin groaned again, Clay went on, “I’ll stay with you, today.”

“Don’t you have a test today?” Justin cleared his throat. “You have a test today.”

Clay shook his head. “It’s—whatever. I can make it up. If you need me here, I’m here. No question.”

Justin swallowed, feeling his throat prickle. “No, you—I can’t let you do that. Not after—you’ve done so much for me, already.”

The boy took a moment, squeezing Justin’s hand once more before letting go. “Well, I guess it’s up to my mom.”

“Will she let me stay home, you think?”

Clay stood from the bed, keeping his gaze on Justin. “I’ll talk to her,” he said. “Don’t worry.”

The boy stepped out of the room, and Justin glanced over at the couch, which had the sheets crumpled over its cushions. He forced his eyes back towards the ceiling, his throat nearly spasming. _Fucking hell,_ _what is wrong with me?_

Deep down, however, Justin knew. He could feel it simmering in his gut, ready to bubble up to the surface again at any moment. _Dear God,_ he really hoped he’d be able to stay home. He couldn’t see anything else being possible for the day, other than simply existing in that bed—if even _that_.

Lainie came up shortly afterwards. After a gentle knock on the door, she stepped inside. “Justin?”

Forcing himself upwards, Justin sat up, despite the aching across his body. “I’ll get up,” he moaned, “I’m up. I’ll get up.”

Lainie hopped towards the bed. “No, that’s—not why I’m up here.” She sat before Justin. “Please,” she insisted, “you don’t have to get up.”

“I’m sorry,” Justin uttered.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have anything to be sorry for.” She patted his leg. “I understand—tomorrow is a big deal. You can afford to take the day. Everyone deserves a mental health day.”

Justin managed a smile. “Is that what Clay called it?”

Lainie smiled back at him. “More or less. But I’m staying home with you, this time.”

As she stood, Justin said, “Thank you.”

“Get some rest,” Lainie offered, caressing his hair as he lay back against his pillow. “I’ll bring you up some breakfast in a little while.”

After she left the room, Justin settled back under the covers as he felt some of that heaviness lift off of him. _Thank God,_ he thought, shutting his eyes—only to reopen them when he realized, would his dreams continue to torment him? Would he be able to sleep soundly ever again?

He turned onto his side, capitulating to the exhaustion crippling his body. He just—needed to turn off for a while. Yeah, no more thoughts, no more thinking. Just, simply, nothingness. Just for a little while.

Justin later heard the shower start to run. When it stopped, the door soon opened, and Justin slowly turned over to see Clay at the closet getting dressed. The mere sight of his boyfriend lifted his spirits, and a pang of regret shot through his throat as he thought of how badly he, Justin, had disrupted their morning.

“Did your mom veto you staying home?”

Smiling slightly, Clay looked at him once he’d slipped on his jeans. “Yeah, she said it was her turn to mother you this time, so, be prepared for that.”

Justin managed a brief laugh. “Well, you took pretty good care of me last time, so…”

Clay finished dressing, then walked over to the bed. He gazed down at Justin, who looked back up at his boyfriend.

“Can I kiss you?”

Astonished, Justin slowly grinned. “Of course.”

The boy knelt over Justin to kiss his forehead, then drew back slightly to meet his eyes again.

“I love you,” Clay uttered, his eyes glinting.

His emotions swelling, Justin managed to swallow the sob that nearly burst from him.

“I love you, too.”

Clay widened his smile. “Feel better.”

The boy went to grab his book bag and slip on his shoes before leaving the room and shutting the door behind him. Justin felt that simmering in his gut boil over and he shut his eyes as he felt the tears come. He turned over, clutching the covers near his chin again as he tried to shut off his mind, but a single thought kept replaying over and over again, ad nauseam.

He didn’t deserve Clay. He didn’t deserve the Jensens. He was damaged, sick, and twisted.

And they finally needed to know the truth.

~ ~ ~

A knock on the door drew Justin back from his haze of semi-consciousness. He turned over, and saw Mrs. Jensen enter with a plate of waffles and a glass of orange juice in hand.

“I’ll leave this on the desk for you,” she said, “whenever you’re ready.”

She did so and slipped out before Justin could say anything, shutting the door once more behind her. The waffles smelled amazing as they warmed the syrup atop them, and there were some scrambled eggs on the side with a bit of sliced strawberries and bananas, too. As his hunger growled, Justin gradually slid from off the bed, not wanting to imagine how he’d feel if he let food like that go to waste.

He sat and ate at the desk, feeling his strength return gradually with every bite. He ate slowly, savoring the moment of normalcy—mainly because it gave him something to focus on. Once he finished, and downed the last of the orange juice, Justin decided to step out to the bathroom and attempt more of his normal routine.

After relieving himself, and a quick brush of his teeth, he stepped out into the hallway to see Lainie picking up the dishes from Clay’s room.

“Oh, I was gonna—” Justin started, stepping towards the room.

“It’s no trouble,” Lainie called. “There’s more for seconds, if you feel like coming downstairs.”

Justin blew out a breath. “That was amazing,” he said, stopping just inside the doorway, “but I’m stuffed. Thank you, though.”

Smiling at him, Lainie said, “Don’t mention it.”

As she started to walk past him, Justin blurted, “Hey—could we talk?”

Lainie came to a stop, a flash of surprise shaping her eyes for only a moment before she began to nod. “Of course.” She gestured with the plate and glass in her hands. “Let me just drop these downstairs. I’ll be right back.”

_Fuck,_ what was he doing? _No turning back now._ After Lainie left, Justin sat on the bed closer to the desk and took another deep breath before slowly exhaling. This—wasn’t something he could just shove back into a box. What did they call it? Pandora’s box? That. This morning had been proof enough that he physically could not go on like this.

He only hoped that it wouldn’t cost him everything. Everything he currently had—and everything he was about to gain.

Justin heard Lainie’s footsteps approach and looked to see her enter the room again. She smiled warmly when she saw him, then slowly walked towards the bed—taking each step with a wide stride, like an exaggerated march. She was trying to lighten the mood.

As she sat beside Justin, he smiled, nearly laughing. Lainie asked, “Well, what did you want to talk about?”

_Oh God._ Sobering his expression, Justin swallowed. “When you said, earlier in the week,” he began, clearing his throat, “the judge would ask me about my past, is there—is there anything I shouldn’t talk about? Or, or that I—should?”

Mrs. Jensen appeared to take a moment to think. “Well, I—I think it’s best to be truthful, and to answer the judge’s questions as honestly as you can, but there won’t be any right or wrong answers at the hearing. The judge will probably try to better understand what you’ve gone through, and then likely focus on how we’ll be able to, to better some of the more challenging aspects of your past.”

Justin looked forward. Across the room, on the couch, he saw himself—his younger, five-year-old self—and he nearly choked. He breathed in sharply and flung his gaze towards the floor. _Fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck…_

“Justin,” Lainie said gently, “what is it?” When Justin couldn’t respond, she continued, “Sweetheart, you can talk to me. I know you and Clay—probably feel like you can’t come to us, sometimes, but I promise you—you can tell me anything. And it won’t change how much I care for you.

“I love you, Justin. Matt loves you, Clay loves you. We _all_ love you. And we want you to be able to come to us when you need it. Because you’re family, now. Tomorrow’s just going to make that official.”

He’d kept his gazed fixed to the floor, but Justin managed to begin nodding slightly as Lainie spoke. He glanced back up at the couch to see it empty, then looked to see Mrs. Jensen smiling warmly beside him. He offered a brief smile in return before turning his focus back towards the floor.

“There was a man,” Justin began, clearing his throat again, “my mom was seeing on and off for a while, when I was younger. When I was really little. When I was five, he moved in with us for the first time, and he’d live with us for a few times over the years.

“Like, like most of the guys she got involved with, they—they got high together. A lot of times, they’d smoke until they passed out, leaving me alone.”

Justin paused for a moment, and took a few deep breaths. “One night—there was one night where it seemed like they were passed out, so I went to my room, and went to bed like, like I normally had to do.” He glanced at Lainie, who was regarding him intently, and with sympathy. “Not—not always, I guess; she still would put me to bed sometimes, back then.”

He looked back towards the floor. “Anyway, I’d gone to bed, but I woke up when I heard him walking down the hall. Now, that—that wasn’t really unusual, because he always wore these big heavy boots, and I’d always hear him whenever he went to the bathroom, or whenever he got up to leave.

“But this one night, I heard him walking, and when I woke up, I wasn’t sure at first—but it sounded like he was right outside my door. I didn’t know what to think, but then I heard his keys, too—he always had this giant ring of keys with him—and when I heard them, he opened the door, came in, and closed it behind him.

“I was awake, and I sat up, so he knew I was awake. He, he greeted me; I don’t remember what he said exactly, but it was like, ‘hey, buddy,’ or some sh— _something_ like that. He was acting completely chill—whether he was high or sober, I don’t know for sure. But he came in and sat on my bed—and he reached for me, putting his hand on my shoulder.”

Justin exhaled quickly before drawing in another breath. “He was a big guy. Maybe because I was so little, but his hand felt like it almost went around me, completely. But he held onto me, and—and started—rubbing my back with his fingers. He rubbed my back for a while, then started feeling up my chest.”

As his vision started to blur, he sniffled, and forced himself to swallow. “That first night, he—he undid his pants and stuck his thumb in my mouth while he—he started—jacking himself off. He, he stuck his fingers around my mouth without saying anything, but the only noises he made were—were noises I didn’t understand right then and got louder until—until he finished.

“That first time he got up and left without saying or doing anything else.” Justin sniffled. “The next time—was a while later—and he did the same thing. He came into my room, started touching me, but—but the third time, he, he took off my shirt, and my pants, but left my underwear on. The time after that, the same thing. Each time, he’d put my clothes back on, like nothing.

“But when he left for a while, and then came back, the first night he was back, he took off all my clothes and groped me as he finished himself and—he stuck his wet fingers in my mouth after, after he was done.”

Justin realized his knee was shaking, and that he was trembling slightly. When he felt a few tears escape from his eyelids, he sniffled and inhaled deeply before forcing himself to swallow once more.

“I didn’t exactly realize why they were wet. They—I didn’t taste really anything. But there was only one more time after that before he disappeared completely and I never saw him again.”

Justin took another moment to breathe. “When—when I was out on the streets, I, I—I _did_ things when, when I needed the money. Things with guys.” His stomach spasmed, and he nearly sobbed, but he managed to say, “I’d mainly just—suck them off, but sometimes, they’d want more, and even though I’d say no, sometimes, they’d—they’d use me, like—like he did. And afterwards I’d get so fucked up to forget it all only—only to start it all again, a few days later, when I needed my next fix.”

He nearly heaved, and when his chest convulsed, he couldn’t keep the sob inside of him as he started to weep. Justin finally looked up at Lainie, and she had tears welling in her eyes and flowing down her cheeks.

“So,” Justin cried, keeping his gazed fixed on her as his voice trembled, “this is your last chance. This is your last chance to change your mind! I’m dirty,” he sobbed, “ _I’m dirty_ and _used_ and _weak_ and _garbage_ and I don’t deserve all that you’ve done for me!”

_“No,_ Justin,” Lainie uttered, “that is—categorically, and _undeniably_ — _false._ ” When Justin broke down in tears, she reached over to bring him close and hugged him tightly as Justin clung to her, unable to help himself, as he bawled into her shoulder.

“You—are _none_ of those things,” Lainie went on. “What happened to you—should never have happened to you. It was _wrong._ He _never_ should have touched you—done what he did to you— _a child_. You were a _child_. And whatever you did to survive out there, on your own, was simply that. _Survival_.”

As she continued to hold him, Justin cried, “Please, _please—_ don’t tell Clay. I get it if, if you tell Matt, but— _please_ , don’t tell Clay.”

After rubbing his back for another moment, Lainie drew back from him, and Justin managed to get a grip on himself. “I,” Justin started, “I don’t want this on him. I don’t want this on Clay, too. He’ll take this on himself and,” Justin sniffled, “he has so much on him already. I can’t ask him to carry this, too.”

Lainie grasped the side of his face, then began to gently thumb away some of his tears. “Sweetheart, this doesn’t change how I feel for you. Not at all. Frankly, I’m—I’m so glad you did, because you shouldn’t have to shoulder this alone. And I’m sure that—Clay will feel the same way. I can only imagine it bringing you two closer.”

Justin shook his head, sniffling once more as she let go of him and he wiped his nose with his palm. “This, this would wreck Clay. I—I can’t do this to him. Not after everything he’s already done for me.”

Regarding him sympathetically, Lainie said, “I think you’re underestimating him, how strong he is. Just like how strong _you_ are.”

“I’m not,” Justin scoffed.

“You are,” Lainie insisted. “You _are_.”

After a moment, she asked, “Have you—shared this with anyone else?”

“No, never,” Justin replied. “I mean, they tested me in juvie, and I managed to come back clean for it all, somehow. But…” he paused. He couldn’t think of a way to explain the note, so—he opted to filter that detail, slightly. “Something my mom said to me before, before she left, she said that—she was sorry that she ‘couldn’t always protect me.’ It hit me last night, out of the blue, what it could’ve possibly meant. It—it brought it all back, and…”

He shook his head violently as he let his words and his head hang. He took a deep breath, then uttered, through gritted teeth, “I hope I never, _ever_ see her again. So I don’t have to ask her—what she meant by that.”

Lainie grasped his shoulders, then brought him in close for another hug. “Sweetheart, this stays with me, and only me. This is your story, and whenever you’re ready, I’ll support you. Whatever you decide.”

Clutching her tightly, Justin breathed, “Thank you,” and he relished the feeling swathing him in a warmth he’d longed for his entire life.

A true mother’s embrace.


	15. Kids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin and Lainie visit a sanctuary.

“I wanna take you somewhere. Why don’t you get ready, and we’ll head out in a bit?”

Lainie had spoken with Justin for a little while longer, offering to book an appointment for counseling with a specialist if he wanted. He said he’d think about it, and Lainie also went on to say that she didn’t think he would need to bring any of this up at the hearing if he didn’t want to before offering to take him out for the day.

Justin showered, dressed, and went down to meet Lainie in the den. They went to the car, and after settling in, they set off.

“Where are we going?”

Mrs. Jensen smiled subtly, almost slyly. “You’ll see. I think you’ll be able to tell when we get closer.”

They crossed onto the highway, and Justin became more intrigued the further they went. “Has Clay been here before?” He asked.

“You know,” Lainie replied, “he actually hasn’t—not at this particular place. But somewhere similar. So—this’ll be something special you’ll get to experience before he does.” She smiled at him, and Justin laughed.

As she started changing lanes towards an upcoming exit, they soon pulled off the highway and began driving through a city retail district.

“You know,” Lainie began, “when I was a little girl, my father would bring me to the zoo whenever I felt sad. I think there’s something about animals that just—always manages to cheer you up when you see them.”

Justin grinned at her. “So, you’re not dropping me back at the pound, then?”

_“No,”_ she chided gently, then smiled.

“I’ve actually never—been to the zoo,” Justin continued.

Lainie’s expression lit up, which made Justin laugh. “Well, this will definitely be a treat, I hope, because this is more than just a regular zoo.”

They left the city and looked like they were heading into a more residential area. They eventually came to a long, small highway, and Justin noticed a sign along the road that read _Weberpark Wildlife Preserve_ and indicated it was up ahead.

“Is this—a petting zoo?” Justin exclaimed.

“Yes, it is, but—we don’t have to do that if you don’t want to.”

“No, yeah! I want to!” Justin insisted, bursting out with a laugh. “Oh my God!” When Lainie laughed, too, Justin went on, “What kind of animals do they have here?”

“It’s mainly a wildlife sanctuary, but they also have rescue farm animals as well.”

“Oh my God,” Justin repeated, giddy.

After turning off the highway, they entered the preserve and parked. Once they were out of the car, it was hard for Justin not to skip slightly as he walked with Lainie to the entrance. There weren’t very many other cars around but they did see people already lining up to enter.

“We’re pretty early in the day,” Lainie remarked, “so I don’t think it’ll be very busy.” She looked at Justin, and made a concerned face. “You’re not allergic to any animals, are you?”

Justin shrugged, still grinning. “No, but I guess we’ll find out!”

The line didn’t last very long and they were in through the front gate and main lobby a short while later. Lainie bought their tickets, and as they waited for the tour to start, Justin looked around at the other parents with their—tiny—children.

“Don’t worry,” Lainie remarked to Justin, “we’re both still kids at heart.” Justin laughed.

The tour guide appeared in the lobby not long afterwards. She was very peppy, and eagerly greeted their small group before giving them a rundown of the preserve, explaining their mission and outlining a few precautions and policies.

She then led them onward into the preserve, leaving the building and crossing through a grassy outdoor transition area. They started coming upon the first set of wooden fences with several staff and handlers at the ready, and Justin began to spot a few young cows, pigs, goats, and turkeys milling about the different pens.

“Oh my God,” Justin uttered. He looked towards Lainie. “They’re so tiny!”

“This first area you see here,” the tour guide was saying, “are the farm rescues. They’re completely docile, and happy to see people, so feel free to split off and say hi!”

“The goats are my favorite,” Lainie remarked, so Justin took that as their cue to head over to the goat pen. Another family with three kids, two older girls and a younger boy, went with them.

Justin felt his heart swell as he saw the handler inside the pen with the little fluffy balls of energy that were the young goats hopping around the pen.

_Oh my God_ seemed to be all Justin could say, or think. As another staffer opened the pen, they walked inside to have the goats all start flocking towards them, and the little kids from the family beside them (and, perhaps, Justin, too) started squealing.

“Now, do you know what the name for a baby goat is called?” the handler said as he walked with the goats.

_“Kids!”_ one of the little girls shouted, and everyone laughed.

“That’s right!” the handler confirmed. “You’re so smart!”

Justin knelt down as this tiny black-and-white spotted furball goat trotted up to him, and he just wanted to cry as it started sniffing around his knees and seemed eager for him to pet it. A brown goat followed behind it, approaching Lainie beside him. The kid, baby goat, was so soft, and warm, and started squeaking the most adorable noises before hopping around off Justin’s leg.

He looked towards Lainie, who grinned back at Justin. “Oh my God,” he uttered.

She nodded, trying to reach for the brown goat who kept bouncing around. “I know.”

~ ~ ~

They approached the cows, rabbits, and young pigs before the tour guide led them next to the sanctuary, where Justin saw a wide variety of birds, porcupines, lizards, and smaller furry animals, including sloths and foxes. The tour guide led them to different handlers who helped them interact with the animals, and if they were furry, or feathery, and he could do so, Justin pet them, grinning like an idiot with each encounter.

When they reached the end of the preserve and the tour ended, Justin and Lainie circled back near the entrance to have lunch. The park, unsurprisingly, featured an all-vegan menu, and they both opted for a vegan burger and fries that Justin found to be quite good, actually.

Once they had walked back to the car, and got inside, Justin gazed at Lainie while a swirl of happy emotions brimmed beneath his chest.

“Thank you,” he said, and took a deep breath. “This was— _amazing.”_

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” Lainie said with a bright smile. “I think you’ll make Clay quite jealous, today.”

Justin laughed. “Yeah, I will.”

Lainie started the car, and they set off. Justin pictured all of the adorable animals at the preserve throughout the way home and seriously contemplated giving up meat along the way. After something like this, how could you not?

When they got home, it wasn’t that long before the time he and Clay would normally be getting back from school. Lainie announced she wanted to do the laundry, so Justin helped her gather a load from the closet before making the bed and settling atop the covers. He took a moment to reflect and simply breathe, and he found himself feeling much, much lighter than he had that morning. Justin realized—it truly made all the difference to finally tell someone. And—he had no doubts, now, the Jensens were all in with him.

Tomorrow was gonna be a great day.

Justin found Bobo while he was helping sort the laundry and decided to have the toy keep him company as he turned on the TV. He found a channel with reruns of _Family Guy_ he felt like watching for a short while, and held Clay’s old toy as a reminder of the wonderful animals he’d seen earlier.

He heard Clay come home soon afterwards. Justin hid Bobo beside him under the covers as he waited for Clay to come upstairs. He heard sounds of conversation between the boy and his mom below before Clay walked in through the door to the room not long afterwards.

“Hey,” his boyfriend greeted with a smile, shutting the door behind him.

“Hey,” Justin greeted in return, grinning.

“Sounds like you had quite the adventure, today!” Clay remarked as he set his backpack down by the desk.

“Yeah,” Justin confirmed, chuckling, “we did.”

“I’m—supremely jealous, but—you deserve it.” Clay sat on the edge of the bed, then leaned in to embrace Justin.

“I missed you,” the boy cooed—very much like the way Justin would say it—and Justin laughed, embracing his boyfriend in return.

“I missed you, too.” When they parted, Justin went on, “You know who else missed you?”

“Who?”

Justin reached under the covers and pulled out the toy monkey, making Clay burst out with a laugh as Justin started speaking in falsetto, waving the toy at him, _“I’ve missed you so much, Clay! Why don’t you love me anymore?”_

As Clay eyed Justin, trying to suppress his grin, the boy pushed Bobo away and fell back against Justin in another embrace. “What am I gonna do with you!” his boyfriend exclaimed, and Justin burst out with another laugh.

After a moment, Clay told him to scoot over. Justin complied, and held the boy against him as they cuddled against each other atop the bed. As his boyfriend rested his head against his shoulder, Justin snuggled his cheek against the boy’s hair as he continued eyeing the television.

“You tired?” Justin asked.

Clay exhaled deeply. “I’m okay.”

“Want me to turn off the TV?”

“No, keep watching. I like this episode.”

Justin obliged, and he savored the moment. He and Clay, simply themselves on top of that bed. Existing together. Boyfriends. Partners.

Family.

~ ~ ~

Lainie fixed them a quick dinner from leftover meatloaf before Clay set out with Justin to head to his recovery meeting. After their usual drive across the city, Justin met Sam there and showed him the pictures from the petting zoo on his phone. His friend was ecstatic.

“Bitch, why didn’t you bring me one?” Sam cried out, drawing the attention of a few other nearby members. Justin showed them the pictures, and eventually Sandra, as well.

“Oh,” their group leader cooed, “animals can truly be the best therapy.”

After the meeting, Justin and Sam caught up outside in the lobby.

“So—tomorrow’s the big day, huh?”

“Yup,” Justin said, “it is.”

“You ready for that?” Sam grinned, and gently elbowed Justin’s arm. “You can Clay to become brother-boyfriends?”

Justin burst out with a laugh. “Yeah—yeah, I’m ready.”

“You know,” Sam went on, “it’s almost like you’re getting married, in a way.”

Making a face, Justin exclaimed, “What?”

Sam shrugged. “Well, you’re gonna be part of the family now, so—that’s another way to do it.” He grinned.

Justin grinned back at him and rolled his eyes. “Jesus.”

“I don’t think you need a minister for this one!”

They hugged goodbye, and Justin met Clay back in the car. The meeting ran a little longer than usual, so it was already dark as they drove back home. Once there, they got settled in again and got ready for bed.

Justin settled beneath the covers with Clay, who lay on his side and gazed at Justin.

“You’re okay, right?” the boy asked softly, grasping Justin’s hand.

Justin regarded him somberly. “Yeah, I’m okay.” He squeezed Clay’s hand in return.

“Because,” his boyfriend continued, “it’s okay—if you’re not. Really. You can talk to me—you know that, right?”

Smiling, Justin leaned in to give Clay a slow, tender kiss. He savored the boy’s warm, soft lips, and their ability to send chills throughout his body before drawing back.

“I do,” Justin said. “I’m okay, really.” He grinned. “It’s amazing what hyper baby goats can do for you.” Clay laughed.

Shifting slightly, Justin rested his head on his arm as he propped his elbow against his pillow. “You know what Sam said to me, tonight?”

“What?”

“He said it was like you and me were getting married tomorrow.”

Clay made a face, shocked. _“What?”_

Justin chuckled. “Yeah, I know.” He shook his head. “Don’t worry, he’s always saying crazy shit like that.”

The boy gradually began to smile. “I suppose—he might have a point. You are becoming part of the family, after all.”

Snorting a laugh, Justin quipped, “Brother-boyfriends?”

“Oh my god,” Clay huffed, turning onto his back. Justin continued to laugh, and snuggled against the boy, who happily wrapped his arms around him.

“Well,” Clay went on, “if it means I get to spend the rest of my life proving to you how amazing you are—challenge accepted.”

Justin inhaled deeply, his heart swelling. “Aww,” he breathed.

Clay turned off his lamp, and he kissed the top of Justin’s hair as he wished him goodnight. Justin closed his eyes, taking in his boyfriend’s warmth, his lyrical breaths, and his soothing heartbeat.

This—was heaven, Justin realized. _This_ was love. He finally had all he ever wanted, and he was the luckiest bastard there ever was.

Tomorrow was gonna be a great day.


	16. Beloved, Revisited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin must make a difficult choice.

It was nearly dawn when Justin awoke. No dreams, no sudden snap back to the real world. It was almost like—the falling droplets of water that preceded a gentle rainfall.

Actually, it _was_ raining at that moment, and the soft pattering of water against the window were the only other accompaniment to the sounds of his and Clay’s steady breaths.

The boy was still beside him, still cuddled up in his arms. _Snuggle monster,_ truly. Justin used the moment to appreciate the serenity Clay and his family had given him, and to take in the absolute perfection of everything right then: him and Clay, together, beside each other—breathing almost in unison—and their hearts, surely, beating as one.

_God,_ he was being sappy this morning. _Oh well._ Justin didn’t see that changing anytime soon.

The rain gradually dissipated as dawn broke through the window. Knowing their alarms were about to sound, Justin carefully reached for their phones to prevent their intrusion before giving his boyfriend a gentle squeeze as he started kissing the top of his head. Clay gave an appreciable hum before inhaling deeply, while Justin continued smooching him and gently rubbing his arm.

“Morning,” Justin cooed.

Clay was smiling as he stretched, then groaned, as Justin let go of him. “Morning,” the boy echoed. He looked up at Justin and leaned in for a kiss before nestling back beside him. “Five more minutes.”

Justin gave an airy chuckle. “Okay,” he uttered.

After a few moments, Clay asked, “How long have you been up?”

“Not too long,” Justin replied.

His boyfriend _mmhm_ ’ed in response before sitting up. “Okay, let’s get up.”

“That wasn’t five minutes!” Justin countered, smiling. “We have time.”

Clay smiled back at him. “Mmm, I know. But let’s get up, anyway. Big day.”

“Okay. Do you wanna go first?”

The boy seemed to ponder for a second. “Yeah. Why don’t I go first, for once?” He pecked Justin on the cheek. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Clay hopped off the bed, grabbed a towel, and stepped down the hall, leaving the door open. Justin could hear the gentle bustling of activity downstairs—no doubt Lainie or Matt getting breakfast ready. He lay back against his pillow and watched the sunrise through the window before his boyfriend returned shortly afterwards and declared the bathroom free. Justin arose out of bed to grab his own towel, and kissed Clay behind his neck as he dressed by the closet before slipping out of the room.

The shower felt extra good this morning for some reason, as did brushing, and the rest of his usual routine, too. Like everything just had this glow about it all, and what was even better, he didn’t need any foreign substances to feel this way. This was an all-natural high, baby. Chuckling to himself before the mirror, he realized— _shit,_ they really _do_ exist.

Justin returned to the room to get dressed before heading downstairs. He made for the kitchen and found his plate already set with Clay at the table as well and Lainie working away at the stove.

“Good morning!” she greeted. “Dig in, there is plenty of food.” As Justin sat, and as Clay poured syrup across Justin’s plate for him (the first time he’d ever done that), they grinned at each other, and Justin so, _so_ wanted to kiss him right then.

But he snapped back to what Lainie was saying, which had been a question. “Sorry,” Justin said, “what?”

“That new place by the courthouse, near fourteenth,” Lainie went on, “Clay, what was it called?”

“That fusion place?” the boy asked. “Uh, the Canteen, maybe?”

“I think that’s right,” Mrs. Jensen went on. “Anyway, I doubt we’ll be in court until lunchtime, but I thought maybe we could stop by the park, too.” She glanced at Justin over her shoulder before flipping the pancake in her skillet. “What do you think, honey?”

“Yeah,” Justin agreed, “that sounds great.”

Clay smiled knowingly at him before taking a bite of his pancake. “We’re gonna make a day of it—in case you didn’t already know.”

Justin laughed. “Yeah, yeah, I—figured.”

“Sweetheart,” Lainie said, glancing again over her shoulder, “I wanted to throw it out there as an idea—you are in no way obligated to do so—”

“Mom!” Clay interjected.

Justin looked between the boy and his mom. “What?”

Lainie said to Clay, “You said you would bring it up to him for weeks now—have you?”

The boy huffed loudly, and started doing that head-shaking thing he did when he was annoyed as he turned to Justin, who grinned. “So—something that a lot of adopted kids do, when—they get adopted—is—”

“Take their name,” Justin finished. He softened his grin into a smirk. “You want me to take your name, Clay?”

When the boy turned visibly red, Lainie cut in, “No pressure, Justin. You do not have to do anything of that sort if you don’t want to.”

The doorbell rang. As they all looked towards the door, Justin met Clay’s eyes and could feel the flash of anxiety burn between them.

Lainie quickly turned off the stove. “Oh,” she remarked, “Dennis is awfully early.”

Justin sighed in relief and he could feel Clay do the same as Mrs. Jensen left the kitchen. As he looked back at the boy, they laughed, and Clay said, “I don’t want you to take my name yet, Foley.”

“Really? Why not?”

Clay smirked again. “Because I want you to do that when I can marry you, for real,” he said, and turned right back to his pancakes.

Speechless, Justin could only stare at the boy as a swell of emotions ballooned inside of him. Justin heard the door open—and then a gasp, followed by an audible _smack_ —while his heart stopped.

Clay looked up, shifting slightly higher to get a clear view of the front door—then surged towards Justin to press him against the wall of the kitchen between the door and the cutout before pressing his hand hard over Justin’s mouth. As Justin whined in shock, the boy sharply pressed a finger to his own pursed lips before looking towards the front door—obviously to listen. They were out of sight of the front door, though Justin had already previously been beyond the kitchen cutout.

“You must be the bitch trying to steal my son from me.”

Justin’s heart skipped another beat. _Holy shit—holy fucking shit, shit, shit…_

There was a pause before Lainie replied. “You must be Amber.”

Justin whined again, only for Clay to press harder against him as he looked right back into his eyes.

“Don’t say a fucking word,” the boy hissed. He started to tremble. “You’re not here. _Stay out of sight.”_

“My apologies for the—abrupt introductions.” _No no no no—shit shit fucking_ shit! “But we believe you have something of ours.”

_Seth._

What the fucking hell?

Clay let go of Justin and sprung out from the kitchen into the vestibule. “He’s not here,” he called out. “He went for a run just now.”

“Surprise,” Seth sneered, “we meet again, you little shit.”

“You need to get the fuck out of here,” Clay snapped back. “ _Now.”_

“Jesus,” his mother said, “are these the kind of manners you instill in your own son? Besides, I know he’s here. I know what today is. My boy might do a lot of it, but he _hates_ actual running.”

“Clay,” Lainie demanded, “what is going on?”

“Interesting,” Seth remarked, “so where _did_ you get all that money, huh?”

_“Get out!”_ Clay shouted. “You are _both—trespassing!”_

“You’re not in a position anymore to make demands, little man,” Seth drawled.

“He’s _not_ here!”

“Well, then,” Seth went on, “I guess that’s really too bad for you—‘cause we don’t got a lot of time to wait around.”

“We can do this the easy way,” his mom warned, “or not.”

Lainie cried out.

_“Mom!”_

Justin burst into the hallway, trembling, and barely able to breathe. _“Stop!”_ he shouted, spotting Seth right as he’d taken Lainie by the wrist. _“Let her go!”_

Clay looked back at Justin in horror, but all Justin could focus on was the sight of his mother as she stepped inside the door.

“Oh my gosh, baby!” she exclaimed. “Look at you!”

Justin—barely recognized her. Her hair was done. She was wearing makeup. She had nice clothes on. _Holy shit._

Was she clean?

“You look so good!” his mom went on. “Give me a hug, baby. I’ve missed you so much!”

Justin forced his gaze back towards Seth, who’d let go of Lainie, and she’d stepped back but still stared up at Seth fiercely. The scumbag was smirking back at her.

“Don’t hurt them,” Justin demanded, but his voice began to break. “I’ll—I’ll go. I’ll go. Please—just, just don’t hurt them.”

“Justin,” Clay pleaded.

His mother stepped past Clay to hug Justin and he was helpless to stop her advance. She squeezed him tightly—with surprising strength—before drawing back. “Come on, baby,” she coaxed, “let’s go.”

Clay looked utterly devastated as Justin met his gaze. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered to the boy as he passed.

His mom was practically dragging him along as they neared the door. He looked at Lainie, who also seemed completely heartbroken. “I’m so sorry,” Justin repeated.

As she picked up the pace, his mother pulled him out the door as she followed Seth down the front steps and toward the black sedan parked on the sidewalk before the driveway. Seth opened the backseat door and his mother shoved him inside before shutting the door behind Justin. Seth got into the driver’s seat while his mother got into the front as well before Seth cranked up the car.

Justin looked back up at the house to see Clay and Lainie staring down at them in abject horror and helplessness. _I’m so sorry,_ he mouthed at them through the window, and Clay started to break down in tears as his mom reached to hold him.

Seth got the car in gear and they sped off down the road. As they turned out of the neighborhood, Justin felt some of his fear give way to anger.

“Where the fuck are you taking me?”

“Oh, baby, don’t worry,” his mother responded. “We’ll get you all sorted out very soon.”

As they reached a stop sign, Seth said, reaching behind his back, “Oh yeah, lights out, punk.”

_“Seth!”_

Justin barely saw the butt of the pistol before—

Pain, with a flash of red.

Then blackness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued...


End file.
